GIFT  OF 


THE  AZTEC  GOD 

AND 

OTHER    DRAMAS 

^BH 

o^  THC 
N  !  V  E  R  : 

OF 
g£UR_ 

BY 

GEORGE   LANSING   RAYMOND 


THIRD   EDITION,  ABRIDGED,   WITH   OMITTED   PASSAGES 
PRINTED   IN  FOOTNOTES 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

Gbe    Imtcfcetbocher   press 
1908 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

GEORGE   LANSING   RAYMOND 
1900 

REVISED   EDITION,   COPYRIGHT  BY 

GEORGE  LANSING  RAYMOND 
1908 


fmicfterbocfeer  press,  Dew 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

THE  AZTEC  GOD         »'       ,     '  .'     «v     •       •       •        x 

COLUMBUS     .  .  .    „ •  ,     •     I29 

CECIL  THE  SEER 296 


iii 


169452 


THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


INTRODUCTION  :    PLACE  AND  TIME. 

The  scene  of  this  drama  is  laid  in  Mexico  near  the  opening 
of  the  Fifteenth  Century,  just  when  the  Aztecs  were  begin 
ning  to  overrun  the  country,  and  when,  therefore,  the  peculiar 
forms  of  their  religion  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  have 
been  comparatively  unknown  to  the  Tezcucans  who,  as  will 
be  shown  presently,  adhered,  in  the  main,  to  the  more  mild 
religious  observances  of  the  ancient  Toltecs. 

The  facts  with  reference  to  the  Aztec  human  sacrifices,  the 
selection  for  these  of  a  captive  without  blemish,  the  allot 
ment  to  him  of  certain  maidens  as  wives,  and  the  general 
luxury  and  adoration  with  which  he  was  surrounded  up  to 
the  time  when,  surrendering  the  flowers  that  crowned  his 
head  and  the  lyre  that  he  carried,  he  ascended  the  pyramid 
to  have  his  heart  torn  out  of  him  while  still  alive, — all  these 
facts  are  sufficiently  well  known  to  substantiate  the  delinea 
tions  of  the  drama. 

The  exact  religious  conception  which  underlay  these  Aztec 
rites  is  not  known.  In  the  circumstances,  it  has  been 
thought  justifiable  to  surround  them  with  a  certain  atmos 
phere  of  spiritual  truth— though  only  in  twilight — similar  to 
that  which  is  known  to  have  formed  the  setting  of  the  pagan 
worship  of  ancient  Egypt  and  Greece.  It  has  been  recognized 
that  doing  this  might  not  only  enhance  the  poetic  effective 
ness  of  the  presentation,  but  might  also  aid  in  imparting  to  it 
that  contemporary  import  and  application  which,  in  every 
work  of  art,  the  intelligent  reader  ought  to  feel,  even  though 


2  THE  AZTEC  G'OD. 

he  may  not  be  able,  in  any  wholly  satisfactory  way,  to  analyze 
or  interpret. 

A  few  historical  quotations  may  be  needed  to  explain  the 
disposition  which  Haijo  and  the  King  are  represented  as  pro 
posing  to  make  of  Waloon.  In  a  note  referring  to  the  in 
mates  of  the  Aztec  religious  houses,  in  Prescott's  "  Conquest 
of  Mexico,"  vol.  I.,  p.  69,  we  read  that  "Tales  of  scandal 
.  .  .  have  been  told  of  the  Aztec  virgins,"  etc.,  and  in 
vol.  I.,  pp.  110-112,  of  the  same  author's  "Conquest  of 
Peru,"  a  country  in  which  there  prevailed  a  worship  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  very  similar  to  that  of  the  Aztecs,  we  are 
informed,  with  reference  to  the  "  Virgins  of  the  Sun,"  as 
they  were  termed,  that  "  they  were  young  maidens,  dedicated 
to  the  service  of  the  deity,  who  .  .  .  were  taken  from 
their  homes  and  introduced  into  convents.  .  .  .  From  the 
moment  they  entered  the  establishment,  they  were  cut  of! 
from  all  connection  with  the  world,  even  with  their  own 
family  and  friends.  Yet  .  .  .  though  Virgins  of  the  Sun,  they, 
were  brides  of  the  Inca  (or  king),  and,  at  a  marriageable  age, 
the  most  beautiful  among  them  were  selected  for  the  honors 
...  of  the  royal  seraglio  .  .  .  The  full  complement  of  this 
amounted  in  time  not  only  to  hundreds  but  to  thousands,  who 
found  accommodations  in  his  different  palaces."  An  estab 
lished  custom  like  this  among  the  Peruvians  certainly  seems 
sufficient  to  justify  an  illustration  of  the  spirit  underlying  it 
among  a  people  so  much  like  them  in  other  respects  as  were 
the  Aztecs. 

A  few  words  may  be  needed  too  with  reference  to  the 
range  of  thought  and  feeling  attributed  in  the  drama  to 
Monaska  and  Kootha.  Some  may  suppose  the  healthfully 
romantic  chastity  of  the  one  and  the  philosophic  cynicism  of 
the  other  to  be  idealizations  beyond  the  possibilities  of  the 
period. 

With  reference  to  the  first  of  these  suppositions  it  is  only 
necessary  to  say  that  a  very  slight  investigation  of  facts 


PLACE  AND    TIME.  3 

would  enable  the  reader  to  recognize  that  Monaska  repre 
sents  a  type  of  character  by  no  means  uncommon  among  the 
Indians  of  our  own  country  to-day,  or  among  other  semi- 
civilized  people.  The  elaborated  systems  of  ethics,  to  which 
the  enlightened  nations  are  apt  to  attribute  their  virtue,  are 
themselves  merely  developments  of  natural  and  normal  in 
stincts  of  which  men,  especially  young  men,  are  everywhere 
conscious,  and  by  which  they  are  often  controlled.  If  this 
were  not  so,  the  ethics  of  civilized  life  would  be  a  result  with 
out  a  cause. 

With  reference  to  the  philosophic  and  religious  attitudes  of 
mind  of  Kootha,  and  of  Monaska,  too,  so  far  as  he  is  represent 
ed  as  indulging  in  these,  something  more,  perhaps,  should  be 
said.  And  first  of  all,  let  the  reader  be  reminded  that,  had  this 
drama  been  written  by  one  who  had  lived  among  the  Aztecs, 
it  would  have  been  impossible  for  him,  however  desirous  of 
being  faithful  to  facts,  looking  backward,  as  he  would  be 
obliged  to  do,  through  the  vista  of  time,  not  to  have  his 
whole  representation  tinged  with  the  results  of  his  experi 
ences  in  life,  thought  and  expression  through  the  four  hundred 
years  intervening.  But,  besides  this,  were  he  a  poet,  it  would 
be  impossible  for  him  not  to  have  them  tinged  specifically  with 
the  results  of  his  own  imagination,  inasmuch  as  the  value  of 
the  contribution  of  poetry,  in  all  cases,  is  exactly  proportioned 
to  the  light  with  which  it  illumines  facts  in  connection  with  the 
process  of  transferring  them  to  the  region  of  fancy.  It  is 
admitted,  therefore,  that  the  characters  of  this  drama  are 
presented  as  they  appear  through  an  intervening  space  of 
four  hundred  years  ;  and  that,  as  a  consequence,  the  expres 
sions  used,  and  in  some  cases  the  substance  of  what  is  ex 
pressed,  are  more  or  less  modern.  But  just  as  a  magnifying 
glass  modifies  all  the  points  of  interest  in  an  object  to  which  it 
is  applied,  so  it  seems  permissible  at  times  for  imaginative  art 
to  do — in  case,  like  the  glass,  it  does  not  change  the  relative 
proportions  of  the  parts  to  one  another  and  to  the  whole.  A 


4  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

poet,  like  a  painter,  has  a  right  to  increase  the  interest  and 
beauty  of  the  life  that  furnishes  his  model  by  means  of  the 
medium — the  modern  medium  too — through  which  he  is  sup 
posed  to  contemplate  it.  Otherwise,  the  subject  with  which 
he  deals  could  not  be  treated  from  a  present  and  poetic 
view-point,  and  his  works  would  not  be  worth  the  ink  ex 
pended  on  them.  All  the  consideration  for  truth  which  it 
seems  reasonable  to  expect  of  the  historic  dramatist  is 
that,  in  a  medium,  the  component  parts  of  which  are  neces 
sarily  made  up  of  the  language  and  methods  of  thought 
natural  to  his  own  time,  he  should  represent,  in  their  relative 
proportions,  the  particular  motives  and  feelings  as  well  as  the 
general  atmosphere  of  thought  natural  to  the  conditions  ex 
isting  at  the  time  of  the  events  forming  the  basis  of  his  plot. 

There  still  remains  another  supposition  to  be  met.  It  has 
apparently  been  granted,  thus  far,  that  the  range  of  thought 
and  feeling  attributed  to  Monaska  and  Kootha  may  be  beyond 
the  possibilities  of  the  period.  But  barring  the  modern 
associations  and  suggestions,  to  which  reference  has  already 
been  made,  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  this  need  be  con 
ceded.  The  fathers  of  the  Spanish  church,  at  the  time  when 
America  was  discovered,  seeing  in  the  distribution  of  bread 
and  wine,  confession,  penance,  monasticism  and  sacrificial 
ceremonies,  as  practiced  by  its  aborigines,  a  resemblance  to 
their  own  religious  observances,  could  attribute  this  to  nothing 
fcut  contrivances  of  the  devil  to  counterfeit  the  rites  of  Chris 
tianity.  But  we  all  know  now,  or  ought  to  know,  that  the 
real  explanation  for  resemblances  of  this  kind  is  to  be  found 
in  the  fact  that  humanity,  wherever  it  exists,  is  the  same  ;  and 
that  a  similar  stage  of  its  development  always  tends  to  forms 
of  life,  religious  as  well  as  civil,  of  the  same  general  nature. 
This  fact,  indeed,  is  the  chief  warrant  for  supposing  that  this 
drama  of  the  Aztecs  can  have  any  present  interest,  or  suggest, 
by  analogy,  any  present  lesson.  But  this  thought  aside,  the 
fact  being  as  stated,  all  that  is  needed  to  justify  the  character* 


PLACE  AND  TIME.  5 

istics  and  sentiments  of  Monaska  and  Kootha  is  to  show  that 
the  civilization  of  the  Tezcucans  at  this  period  was  sufficiently 
highly  developed  to  produce  them.  To  do  this  is  not  diffi 
cult.  Of  one  of  the  kings  of  Tezcuco,  Nezahualcoyotl, 
who  died  about  1470  A.  D.,  the  same  author  already  quoted 
says  in  the  "  Conquest  of  Mexico,"  vol.  I.,  pp.  192-196,  that 
u  He  built  a  temple  in  the  usual  pyramidal  form,  and  on  the 
summit  a  tower  nine  stories  high,  to  represent  the  nine 
heavens  ;  a  tenth  was  surmounted  by  a  roof  painted  black 
and  profusely  gilded  with  stars  on  the  outside  and  incrusted 
with  metals  and  precious  stones  within.  He  dedicated  this  to 
the  unknown  God,  the  Cause  of  causes.  .  .  .  No  image  was 
allowed  in  the  edifice,  as  unsuited  to  the  invisible  God ;  and 
the  people  were  expressly  prohibited  from  profaning  the  altars 
with  blood,  or  any  other  sacrifices  than  that  of  the  perfume  of 
flowers  and  sweet-scented  gums."  He  is  also  represented  to 
have  said  :  "  Idols  of  wood  and  gold  can  neither  see,  hear  nor 
feel ;  much  less  could  they  make  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
and  man  the  lord  of  it.  These  must  be  the  work  of  the  all- 
powerful,  unknown  God,  Creator  of  the  universe,  on  whom 
alone  I  must  rely  for  consolation  and  support ;  "  and  in  one 
of  his  poems — for  many  nobles  and  princes  of  this  people 
were  poets — he  says :  "  The  great,  the  wise,  the  valiant,  the 
beautiful — alas  !  where  are  they  now  ?  They  are  all  mingled 
with  the  clod  ;  and  that  which  has  befallen  them  shall  happen 
to  us,  and  to  those  that  come  after  us.  Yet  let  us  take  cour 
age,  illustrious  nobles  and  chieftains,  true  friends  and  loyal 
subjects, — let  us  aspire  to  that  heaven  where  all  is  eternal,  and 
corruption  cannot  come.  The  horrors  of  the  tomb  are  but 
the  cradle  of  the  sun,  and  the  dark  shadows  of  death  are 
cast  by  light  from  the  stars."  Men  educated  where  opinions 
like  these  prevailed  and  were  expressed,  could  certainly  be 
capable  of  sentiments  of  the  kind  attributed  in  this  drama  to 
Monaska  and  Kootha. 


Each  time  you  try  to  mold  a  spirit's  life 
With  fingers  grappling  from  the  fist  of  force, 
You  clutch  but  at  the  air,  at  what  is  far 
Too  fine  for  force  to  handle. 

THE  AZTEC  GOD,  IV,  i. 

Oh  something  surely  must  be  wrong, 
When  that  which  rules  without  rules  not  within. 

IDEM. 


CHARACTERS. 


MONASKA. 


KOOTHA. 


HAIJO. 
WAPELLA. 

THE  KING. 
WALOON. 


FIRST  J 
SECOND  >• 
THIRD  ) 


A  young  Mexican  or  Acolhuan  warrior  of 
noble  blood,  captured  by  the  Aztecs  from  the 
Tezcucans,  a  people  who,  before  succumbing 
to  the  Aztec  invasion,  were  distinguished  by 
their  comparatively  mild  religion  and  man 
ners. 

A  cynical  Tezcucan  of  high  rank  and  education, 
captured  by  the  Aztecs  years  before  the  time 
when  the  drama  is  supposed  to  open,  and 
now  a  slave  of  the  priest,  Haijo,  and  an  at 
tendant  at  the  temple. 

A  chief  priest  of  the  Aztecs. 

A  Tezcucan  warrior,  captured  by  the  Aztecs 
at  the  same  time  as  Monaska. 

Sovereign  of  the  Aztecs. 

A  Tezcucan  maiden  of  high  rank,  niece  of 
Kootha,  captured,  when  very  young,  by  the 
Aztecs  and  adopted  by  Haijo  the  priest. 

(  Admirers  of  Monaska,  and  assigned 

MAIDENS.  <      to    him  as    wives,  according  to 
(      the  customs  of  the  Aztecs. 


WOMEN,  MAIDENS,  OFFICERS,  SOLDIERS,  PRIESTS,  PRIEST 
ESSES,  PAGES,  ATTENDANTS,  ETC. 


PROPERTIES. 


MoNASKA.  In  Act  First,  Bow,  Arrows,  and  Club.  In  Act 
Second,  Club.  In  Acts  Third  and  Fourth, 
Flower-wreathed  Head-dress  and  Lyre. 

KOOTHA.         In  Acts  First  and  Fifth,  a  Spear. 

HAIJO.  In  Act  First,  a  Spear. 

WAPELLA.  In  Acts  First  and  Fifth,  Bow,  Arrows,  and 
Club.  In  Act  Second,  a  Club. 

KING.  In  all  the  Acts,  Belt  and  Hand  Weapons  appro 

priate    for    a    king.     In    Acts    Second    and 
Fourth,  some  sort  of  a  Crown. 

WALOON.  In  Act  First,  a  Spear.  In  Act  Second,  a 
Wreath  of  Flowers. 

MAIDENS.  In  Second  Act,  Wreaths  of  Flowers  about 
their  heads,  shoulders,  etc.,  and  also  carried 
in  their  hands. 

SOLDIERS  with  Bows,  Arrows,  Spears,  etc.,  and 
all  on  the  stage  in  the  costumes  of  the  place 
and  period. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


ACT  FIRST. 

SCENE  : — A  forest.  Backing,  a  tree  with  a  moss- 
covered  elevation  or  seat  at  the  Right  of  it.  Many 
Entrances  at  Right  and  Left  through  the  trees. 
The  darkness  of  a  storm  by  day,  with  occasional 
thunder  and  lightning.  Contending  bands  of  war 
riors  inflight  and  pursuit  cross  stage  from  Left  to 
Right. 

Enter — Left  Second — KoOTHA.1 

Enter — Right  Second — OFFICER. 
OFFICER.     What,  Kootha,  you  here? 


1  KOOTHA  (to  himself}. 

Oh,  what  a  whirlwind's  wave-lashed  sea  is  war ! 
Then  hate  breaks  loose  to  over-flood  the  world, 
Hurling  all  love-built  order  upside  down 
Till  weal  is  drowned  in  darkness  of  the  deep, 
And  wreckage  rides  the  crest. — They  might  have 

known 
They  would  be  tricked.     War's  tactics  all  are  acts 


10  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

KOOTHA.  Ay. 

OFFICER.  What  for? 

KOOTHA.  To  see 

The  tragedy. 

OFFICER.  Is  over  now. 

KOOTHA.  The  fight?— 

I  mean  not  that;  but  you  have  captives. 
OFFICER.  Crowds. 

KOOTHA.     And  them  I  came  to  see. 
OFFICER.  Yes,  you  are  he 

That  waits  on  them  till  sacrificed. 
KOOTHA.  I  do. 

OFFICER.     And  you  take  pleasure  in  it? 
KOOTHA.  So  they  say. — 

Why? — You  would  not? 
OFFICER.  In  part  of  it  I  might. — 

For  you,  too,  like  an  angel,  bring  to  each 

The  maiden  he  is  free  to  love  and  wed. 
KOOTHA.     And  I,  too,  ride  the  nightmare,  sped 
him  when 


Of  treachery — the  one  sole  sphere  where  he 
Who  does  the  worst  thing  does  the  best,  here  faith 
Falls  crushed  beneath  the  trampling  foot  of  force  ; 
And  fair  means  trip,  trailed  mireward  after  foul. 

2  OFFICER.     Ugh ! — I  would  rather  be  a  soldier. 
KOOTHA.  What?— 

And  miss  a  spectacle  so  rare?— that  play 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  II 

His  love  o'erflows  in  dreams  of  Paradise. 
I  come  to  tell  him  just  the  way  to  reach  it, 
Describe  the  scene  awaiting  on  the  morrow — 
His  own  stripped,  cringing  form — and, over  there, 
Each  man,  maid,  child  in  town  agog  to  see  him; 
Then  how   the   priests  will  throttle,   throw  him 

down, 

And,  while  yet  living,  writhing,  yelling,  sane, 
Gouge  their  blunt  knives  between  his  reeking  ribs, 
And,  by  the  roots,  tear  out  his  dripping  heart.2 

OFFICER  (pointing  toward  Left  Third  Entrance}. 
See  there — the  maids  are  coming  now. 

KOOTHA.  Of  course, 

To    snare   the    captive   that  your    spears   have 

spared. 

They  know  the  first  with  whom  they  fall  in  love, 
Will  be  the  first  one  whom  the  priest  will  call 
The  chosen  of  the  gods,  and  send  to — heaven. 
What  cares  a  maid,  be  he  her  victim  too? 

OFFICER.     You  mean  her  lover. 


Of  fright  and  agony,  in  white  and  shade 
Breaking  in  contrast  o'er  your  victim's  brow? 
Why,  what  were  life  without  variety? 

OFFICER.     You  see  too  much  of  it. 

KOOTHA.  Oh  no ! — no  more 

Than  all  men  do — perhaps  concentered  more 
Than  hell  vouchsafes  to  others !     That  is  all. 


12  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

KOOTHA.  Victim  too.8 

OFFICER.  Well,  I 

Am  not  their  victim  yet,  and  so  I  leave. 

Exit — Right  Third  Entrance — O  FFICER. 
KOOTHA     (looking  at  him  as  he  leaves}. 

No,  not  their  victim  ;  but  your  captives  are  ; 
And  they  are  my  own  kin,  whom  I,  forsooth, 
Must  fool  and  lure  to  slaughter.     How  I  longed 
For   their  success !     Yet  why  ?  —  Am   well  off 

here  ; 
And  they  might   not   have   deem'd   me   of  their 

tribe, — 
So  young  I  was  when  captured,  now  so  like 


3  OFFICER.  I  see : 

A  soldier's  life  seems  lovelier,  then? 

KOOTHA.  Why  not  ? — 

A  man-foe  is  a  brute,  a  shark  that  whacks 
The  spirit's  prow  and  whirls  it  from  its  course. 
A  maid  may  be  a  devil  seizing  on 
The  spirit's  helm  to  turn  it  where  she  will. 
Her  victim  though — he  thinks  her  will  is  his. 
You  never  knew  a  man  to  dodge  the  touch 
Of  love-like  fingers  feeling  for  his  heart. 
That  heart  held  once  within  a  grip  so  gained, 
Will  take  each  wrench  that  wrings  its  life-blood  out 
To  be  its  own  pulsation. 

OFFICER.  I,  at  least, 

Am  not,  etc. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  13 

A  native.     Yet  could  I  but  save  Waloon, — 
My  brother's  child,  king's  daughter  too  !  but  here 
This  Haijo,  he  who  maimed  me — made  me  slave, 
Haijo,  he  trains  her  like  a  flowering  weed 
To  clip  and  fling  up  to  the  royal  couch, 
When  comes  the  time  her  beauty  blooms  in  full. 
Poor  duped  Waloon ! — Oh,  I  can  bear  my  fate. 
But  you — how  like  what  Haijo  wills  you  grow! 
Deem  nothing  true  or  right  in  earth  or  air 
Except  as  he  enjoins! — are  so  much  his 
That  even  I,  who  ought,  I  do  not  dare 
To  let  you  know  the  foe  we  just  have  fought 
Are  our  own  kinsmen.4 


4  What  can  curse  one  worse 
Than  force  that  jails  expression,  whether  walled 
In  masonry  or  flesh ! — Though  it  may  be 
Fit  training  for  a  life  whose  brightest  end 
Is  death.     If  all  men  die  alone,  may  be 
They  ought  to  learn,  ere  death,  to  live  alone. 
Enter — Left  Third  Entrance — several  WOMEN. 
FIRST  WOMAN.     Aha,  you  think  so,  do  you,  Kootha? 
KOOTHA.  You 

Have  come  to  make  a  lonely  lot  seem  bliss? 
What  business  brings  you  here? 

{Gesturing  to  make  them  retire.} 
SECOND  WOMAN  (advancing  in  a  supplicating  way). 

We  came  to  pray 

KOOTHA.     Oh,  yes,  I  know,  you  always  come  to 
prey. 


14  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Enter — Left  Third  Entrance — several  WOMEN. 

(An  arrow,  coming  from  the  right,  falls  upon  the  stage. 

KOOTHA  picks  it  up  and  shows  it  to  women.) 

They  are  fighting  still. 
You  may  get  more  of  these  through  your  own 

hearts 
Than   even   you  could   dream    to    send   through 

others'. 

WOMEN.     Oh  !  oh  ! 

Exeunt — at  the  Left  Entrances — the  WOMEN  in  fright. 
KOOTHA  (looking  after  them,  and  toward  the  right]. 
The  fight  and  flight  not  over  !     Humph  ! 
Exit — Left — KOOTHA. 


So  do  the  buzzards,  but  we  drive  them  back. 

SECOND  WOMAN.     We  seek 

KOOTHA.     Why  say  not  lose? — You  hope  to  lose 

Your  hearts  in  this  place. 
FIRST  WOMAN  (sarcastically], 

Not  in  this  place,  Kootha. 
It  must  be  further  on. 

(She  tries  to  pass  him.') 
KOOTHA  (preventing  her). 

No,  no,  stay  back. 
FIRST  WOMAN.     Stay  back? — Stay  back  yourself .     Are 

you  the  one 

Commanding  here — a  slave  of  priests  like  you? 
What  use  have  priests  upon  a  battle-field  ? 
KOOTHA.     To  save  souls  from  perdition — are  bet 
ween 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  1$ 

(After  a  little,  amid  thunder  and  lightning), 
Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — WAPELLA. 
Enter — Right  Second  Entrance — MONASKA. 

WAPELLA.     That  you,  Monaska  ? 

MONASKA.  Yes,  and  you  ? 

WAPELLA.  Wapella. 

MONASKA.     What   man   can  fight  both  earth   and 
heaven  ? 

WAPELLA.  Some  fiend 

Is  raining  down  these  fiery  storm-bolts. 

MONASKA.  Yes, 

We  meet  the  foe,  and  in  their  track,  as  if 
Out-cowarding  the  just-caught  cuttle-fish, 


The  men  and  you. 

FIRST  WOMAN.  The  fight  is  over. 

KOOTHA.  Then 

Do  let  the  warriors  have  a  little  rest. 

Why  break  their  peace,  before  you  get  them  home? 
FIRST  WOMAN.    No  fear  for  your  peace  !    You  may  stay 
alone ! 

There  are  those,  though,  who  want  us. 
KOOTHA.  There  are  men 

Who  lose  their  senses.     I  have  heard  of  those 

With  ears  too  dull  to  hear  a  bat  when  squealing, 

And  flesh  too  tough  to  feed  a  flea  when  stinging. 
SECOND  WOMAN  (to  FIRST  WOMAN). 

Why  stand  and  talk?    We  have  a  right  to  see 

The  captives.     Kootha  knows  it  too. 

(  To  KOOTHA).     Stand  back ! 


1 6  THE  AZTEC  GOL>. 

This  gloom  exudes  upon  the  flooding  light. 
WAPELLA.     We  might  have  scaled  their  hill,  but  not 

these  heavens. 
MONASKA.     We  just  had  drawn  our  bows,  each  arrow 

aimed 

To  wedge  eternal  stillness  in  between 
Unhinging  joints  of  some  affrighted  heart, 
When  down  upon  us  burst  that  thunder-flash. 
The  shock,  so  sudden,  glanced  the  arrows  up 
As  if  to  shoot  them  in  the  face  of  gods 
Asail  the  clouds  in  yon  black  gulf.     It  gave 
Their  men  their  chance.     With  one  wild  yell  and 

bound 
They   closed   like   smoke   about   the   lightning's 

fire; 

And,  all  with  darts  whirled  on  like  sparks  before 
A  flame  that  followed,  they  came  roaring  on 
To  fill  the  gaps  their  shots  had  made. 6 
WAPELLA  (leading  MONASKA  toward  the  moss-covered 

(To  FIRST  WOMAN). 
Go  forward ! 

KOOTHA.  Nay,  leave  forwardness  to  men. 

Have  backwardness.     It  best  becomes  a  woman. 

5  Oh,  hell! 

Not  one  of  us  but  saw,  mount  fiercely  up 
The  dying  body  of  some  fallen  friend, 
What  seemed  wild  fiends. 

WAPELLA.  How  know  you  but  they  were? — 

Grim  phantom-spirits  of  the  earth  and 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  \*J 

seat  or  elevation  at  the  Right  of  the  tree). 

We  here 

Are  hid  as  could  be  hoped  for. 
MONASKA.  I  hope  not 

For  anything.     Sweet  hope  is  a  bird  of  light, 
The  pulsing  touch  of  whose  aspiring  wing 
Thrills  to  new  life  the  very  air  one  breathes. 
In  gloom  like  ours  the  trembling  heart  but  leaps 
To  dodge  the  whir  of  some  blind  bat  of  fear. 
WAPELLA  (looking  toward  the  Left). 

Hark !     There  seems  human  rhythm  in  this  hell. 
What  hot  pursuit  is  it  comes  burning  through 
These  crackling  branches  ? 

(  Vivid  Lightning. ) 
MONASKA  (pointing  toward  the  Left). 

Did  you  see  it? 
WAPELLA.  No, 

But  when  I  do 

(Drawing  his  bow. ) 

The  same  that  now  pursue  us  ? — and  from  them 

You  fled  ? 
MONASKA.     Fled?— Never!     No,  with  them  I  fought, 

Till  all  I  fought  for  but  myself  were  not. 
WAPELLA.     Hush !     They  will  find  us. 
MONASKA.  Ay,  they  will— too  soon. 

Each  fearful  time  this  lid  of  heaven  is  lifted, 

The  rays  pour  in  and  focus  here  on  us. 

They  axle  here  the  foes'  near  wheeling  lines, 

Ay,  draw  them  like  a  whirlpool  to  its  vortex. 


18  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA  (placing  his  hand  on  the  bou>). 

Hold! — Could  one  ever  see 
An  angel,  hers  would  be  a  form  like  that. 
WAPELLA.     An  angel  ? — fiend! 
MONASKA.  Right!     Only  fools  have  faith 

In  forms  they  have  not  wit  to  find  unfrocked. 
Not  sages  even  see  the  spirit  through  them. 
We  flee. 

WAPELLA  (placing  his  hand  on  his  hip,  and  sinking 
down). 

I  cannot. 

MONASKA.  What? — Are  wounded? 

WAPELLA.  Yes. 

MONASKA  (sitting  on  the  moss-covered  seat  beside  him). 

Then  I  stay  too. 

WAPELLA.  Nay,  go. 

MONASKA  (lying  down  on  the  moss-covered  elevation). 

Not  I. — No  man 

Can  wish  us  ill,  the  while  our  bodies  bow 
To  do  his  wishes.  Let  us  yield  our  wills 
To  save  our  lives,  and  feign  that  we  are  dead, 

Enter — Third  Left  Entrance — W  A  LOON. 
WAPELLA.     Sh — sh 

WAPELLA.     This  tree  will  shield  us. 

MONASKA.  There  is  not  a  tree 

Or  leaf,  or  trunk,  but  what,  to  point  us  out, 
These  fiery  fingers  of  the  storm  would  dash 
Aside  to  ashes — fume — thin  air. 


THE   AZTEC  GOD.  19 

WALOON  {soliloquizing). 

The  foe  are  fled.     Our  homes  are  safe; 
{Lightning.     She  sees  MONASKA  and  WAPELLA). 
Why,    who   are    they? — How   beautiful!     What 

flowers 

.    To  bloom  amid  the  desert  of  the  storm ! 
What  glow  of  vigor  in  their  fair,  round  limbs, 
Ay,  how  their  colors  warm  this  cold-hued  air! — 
Can  they  be  wounded? — dead? — Oh,  cruel  man, 
When  spirits  of  the  sunlight  guise  in  flesh 
And  fringe  the  halo  of  the  sunshine  round  them, 
Have  we  so  much  to  cheer  us  on  the  earth, 
We  can  afford  destruction  to  the  frames 
That  form  fit  settings  of  a  light  so  dear? — 

Nay,  I 

(She  approaches,  bends ,  and  studies  them.) 

They  both  are  breathing  still ! — But  look 

(Lightning.) 

This  garb? — Why,  they  will  kill  me  yet  unless 

(Lifts    a   spear  that  she  holds  in   her  hand,   then 
drops  it*     They  start  up.     She  draws  back, 

lifting  her  spear) 
Wait,  wait? — A  maid  like  me  would  do  no  harm. — 


6  Who  made  me  heaven's  avenging  messenger? 
Or  bade  me  cull  for  those  high  gardeners  there 
What  grow  in  nights  of  earth  to  greet  their  dawn? 
I  should  not  know  them  foes  but  for  their  guise. 
And  what  is  all  their  alien  flesh  but  guise 


2O  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

(As  they  sit  still  and  look  at  her.) 
You — you  are  wounded  ? 
MONASKA.     Not  to  death. — And  you  ? — 

Why  do  you  stand  there,  and  not  hurl  the  dart  ? 
It  would  be  sweet,  if  when  one  came  to  die, 
His   last   sigh  could  breathe  forth  toward  one 

like  you. 

WALOON.     I  kill  you? — What? 
MONASKA.  And  why,  pray,  should  you  not? 

WALOON.     I  am  a  woman! 
( The  storm  ceases  ;  and  from  this  time  on  the  stage 

grows  gradually  brighter.} 

MONASKA.  And  a  woman's  aim 

Knows   how   to   reach   the   heart.     We   should 

escape 
The  bungling  work  of  men. 

(Opening  his  breast.} 

My  heart — take  aim — 
Is  open  to  you.     Oh,  how  it  will  thrill 
To  feel  it  gets  what  you  would  give! 
WALOON.  No,  no; 

You  seem  too  strong  and  fair  for  earth  to  lose. 
Some  one,  with  you,  would  find  it  full  of  light. 


A  little  nearer  to  their  souls?     It  gone, 
What  would  they  be  but  spirits,  freed  from 

space, — 
From  all  the  need  of  trampling  others  down 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  21 

MONASKA.     But  we  are  foes. 

WALOON.  To  me  you  seem  like  friends. 

MONASKA.     But  to  your  brothers? 
WALOON.  There  are  those  they  spare. 

MONASKA.     At  your  wish? 
WALOON.  I  can  plead. 

MONASKA.  From  such  lips  pleas, 

Like  fragrance  from  the  flowers  upon  a  shrine, 
Might  bring  an  answer.     I  will  trust  in  you. 

(MONASKA  and  WAPELLA  begin  to  rise.} 
Enter — Left  Second  Entrance — HAIJO  and  KOOTHA. 
WALOON.     Nay,  nay,  lie  still.     Wait,  till  I  speak 

to  them. 
{Pointing  to  HAIJO  and  KOOTHA,  and  moving  toward 

them  and  addressing  them.) 
There  lie  some  wounded  warriors. 
KOOTHA.  Foes? 

WALOON.  They  are. 

KOOTHA.     I  hope  then  you  have  cured  them  of 

their  wounds ! 
WALOON.  How  so? 
KOOTHA  (lifting  his  spear). 

How  so? — There  is  but  one  sure  cure. — 


To  find  a  place  to  stand  in  for  them 
selves  ? — 

The  two  here  must  be  wounded. — Say,  good 
friends — 


22  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Ope  wide  the  casket  that  the  world  has  bruised 

And  let  the  unbruised  soul  fly  out  of  it. 

(Makes  as  if  he  would  move  toward  MONASKA.) 
WALOON  (lifting  her  hands,  and  moving  forward  as 
if  to  shield  MONASKA). 

No,  no;  not  that;  no! — They  are  beautiful. 
KOOTHA.     Then  send  them  upward  while  they  are 
so.     Why 

Outlive  the  happy  moment  for  one's  death! 

A  body  maimed  may  mold  a  spirit  maimed. 
WALOON.     Their  wounds  are  not  so  bad  as  that. 
KOOTHA.  Or  good. 

(WALOON  looks  at  him  in  a  puzzled  way.) 

I  mean  it — good.     I  mean  it.     Let  me  see  them.7 
W A  LOON  gestures  toward  them  andKooTHA  continues 

to  HAIJO.) 
Sire,  pin  them  down  where  they  shall  kneel  before 

us 

And  keep  on  kneeling  till  their  life  is  through. 
HAIJO.     No,  no  ! — but  I  wait  here,  and  you  go  back 
And  tell  them  at  the  temple  why  I  do  it. 


7  HAIJO  (to  WALOON,  as  he  looks  toward  the  prisoners}. 
You  call  them  beautiful?    When  you  have  seen 
As  much  of  men  as  I,  you  will  think  more 
Of  greater  spirits  with  their  lives  enshrined 
In  mountain,  valley,  forest,  bush,  and  flower 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  23 

KOOTHA   (aside,  as  he  moves  toward  Right  First 

Entrance] . 
Oh,  heavens,  I  thought  to  help  them!— but  too 

late! 
Exit— Right  Front  Entrance — KOOTHA. 

HAIJO  (to  WALOON). 

You  wish  to  save  them,  eh? — One  way  is 

WALOON  (eagerly).  What? 

HAIJO.     Why,  make  the  king  adopt  them.     This, 

you  know, 

Is  often  done.     Then  they  will  be  our  own ; 
As  much  so  as  if  born  here.     Can  you  think 
Of  anything  he  would  not  do  for  you? — 
The  trouble  is,  I  hear,  that  there  are  things 
You  would  not  do  for  him,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha! 
Oh,  no  offense!     You  know  you  are  my  ward. 
For  one,  I  ward  you  from  his  majesty. 
Suppose  you  go,  and  tell  your  tale  to  him — 
The  beauty  of  the  prisoners,  and  your  wish. 
I  think  that  he  would  grant  it. 

WALOON.  Free  them  wholly? 


Than  of  these  little  spirits  framed  in  flesh. 
WALOON.     A  great  priest,  you,  and  I  a  little  maid. 
HAIJO.     And  for  our  little  maidens  men  like  these 

Are  sent  at  times  on  little  missions  to  us. 
KOOTHA.     Sire,  pin  them  down,  etc. 


24  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

HAIJO.     Why,  you  can  ask  and  learn.     Should  he 

refuse, 

They  would  be  no  more  sure  to  die  than  now. 
(HAIJO  waves  his  hand.) 

Enter  —  -from  both  Right  and  Left  —  WARRIORS 
with  spears,  and  stand  watching  MONASKA 


WALOON.       First    I    will    tell    them    why    I    go 

away.  — 

And  you  will  guard  them  here? 
HAIJO.  As  if  the  king 

Himself  had  ordered  it. 

(Aside,   as  WALOON  walks  toward  MONASKA  and 
W  A  PELL  A  who  rise  to  receive  her.) 

The  girl  is  right. 

She  knows  what  beauty  is  —  just  what  we  need! 
And  not  another  fair-formed  captive  left  us. 
The  king  will  save  them,  not  a  doubt  of  that. 
We  never  found  a  pair  of  fairer  gods. 
WALOON  (to  MONASKA). 

I  go  to  ask  our  king  here  to  adopt  you. 

(Pointing  to  HAIJO.) 
This  guardian  of  all  our  sacred  things 
Will  guard  you  sacredly  till  I  return. 
HAIJO  (to  MONASKA  tf#^  WAPELLA). 

Unless  you  mean  to  fly.     Try  that;  no  more 
Could   you    escape    our    warriors'    darts,    than 
dodge 


THE   AZTEC  GOD.  2$ 

The  shadows  of  the  trees  through  which  you 
flew. 

Exit— at  the  Right—  W  A  LOON. 

MONASKA  (to  HAIJO). 

You  seem  a  prophet,  sire? 

HAIJO.  They  hold  me  such. 

MONASKA  (holding  out  his  hand). 

And  you  could  read  my  fate? 
HAIJO.  Not  difficult. 

(Plucking  a  twig  from  a  tree.) 
The  tree's  full  growth  is  here,  could  one  unfold 

it. 

Your  future  is  the  fruit  of  present  dreams, 
The  lure  that  leads  the  deepest  wish  within  you; 
The  goal  that  lights  the  furthest  path  of  hope. 
(  Taking  MONASKA  by  the  hand,  then  dropping  it. ) 
A  touch  that  feels  the  start  can  point  the  finish. 
MONASKA.     You  think  so? 

HAIJO.  There  is  nothing  stops  the  flow 

Of  thought  betwixt  my  fingers  and  my  brain, 
Betwixt  your  fingers  and  your  brain;  not  so? — 

(Taking  him  by  the  hand  again.) 
Now  join  these — what  cuts  off  your  brain  from 

mine? 

MONASKA.     Our  wills. 
HAIJO.  Yet  if  I  yield  my  will  to  yours 


26  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA.     But  can  you  ? 

HAIJO.  And  if  not,  what  boots  the  priest 

His  years  of  fasting  and  of  discipline  ? — 

Besides,  all  lives  are  much  alike. 
MONASKA.  They  are? — e 

HAIJO.     All  lives  are  summers,  veiled  at  either  end 

In  shadows  of  the  spring  and  autumn  storms. 

We  pass  from  tears  of  birth  to  burial ; 

And  in  the  brief,  bright  interval  between 

There  comes  anon  the  fevered  flush  of  life, 

Then  paleness,  then  the  fevered  flush  of  death. 

Men  leap  and  laugh,  and  then  lie  back  and  cough, 

Both  but  hysterical,  betwixt  the  two, 


8  How  so? 
HAIJO.  All  thorns  or  roses,  if  you  please, 

Grown  on  the  self-same  bush. 
MONASKA.  Do  all  lives  grow 

Both  thorns  and  roses? 
HAIJO.  Yes,  we  show  the  thorns 

To  those  who  try  to  pluck  us  for  themselves; 

The  roses  to  the  ones  that  let  us  be. 
MONASKA.     And  so  you  think  all  lives  alike  ? 
HAIJO.  Allied. 

All  lives,  etc. 

9  MONASKA.     A  fire  is  brilliant,  yet  it  burns  us  up. 
HAIJO.     In  time. 

MONASKA.  Yet  all  life  is  a  thing  of  time. 

HAIJO.     You  hunger  for  excitement,  man.     You 
hail 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  2? 

Warring  for  power  that  more  of  war  must  keep, 
Pushing  for  place   that  prisons  those  who  seize 

it, 

Kneeling  for  love  to  tramp  on  when  they  get  it, 
Their  little  rest  is  large-brought  weariness, 
And  what  they  wish  for  most  is  mainly  death. 

MONASKA.     A  cheerful  view  ! 

HAIJO.  It  was  not  volunteered. 

MONASKA.     My  fate  seems  dark  then? 

HAIJO.  Brilliant. 

MONASKA.  Brilliant  ? 

HAIJO.  Yes, 9 

MONASKA.     I  shall  not  lose  my  life  ? 


The  trump  of  war,  the  tramp  of  onset,  all 
That  sweeps  you  on  where  drafts  of  life  and  love 
Fan  up  the  flames  that  flicker  in  the  breast 
And  set  the  whole  form's  trembling  veins  aglow. 
MONASKA.     You  read  me  well. 
HAIJO.  Suppose  this  heart  a  toy 

Wound  up  to  run  through  just  so  many  ticks 

MONASKA.     I  see,  you  mean  a  fast  life  is  a  short 

life. 

HAIJO.     The  fleetest  foot  is  first  beside  the  goal. 
MONASKA.     But  if  the  goal  be  high  as  well  as 

far 

HAIJO.     The  bird  of  fleetest  wing  may  fly  the 

highest. 

MONASKA.     It  may ! — A  chance  that  I  could  risk ! — 
If  not. 


28  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

HAIJO.  In  every  life, 

The  first  and  final  acts  are  tragedy. 

MONASKA.     But  ere  the  final  act? 

HAIJO.  The  whole  you  wish 

Will  come. 
MONASKA.     All? 
HAIJO.  All. 

MONASKA.     But  I  am  not  unselfish. 
HAIJO.     You  need  not  be — where  all  will  rush  to 

serve  you. 

MONASKA.     And  I  am  vain. 
HAIJO.     None  will  be  clothed  more  richly. 
MONASKA.     And  I  have  tastes. 
HAIJO.  Each  meal  will  be  a  feast. 

MONASKA.     I  would  not  slave  it  to  these  lower 
aims. 

I  have  ambition. 

HAIJO.  None  will  rank  above  you. 

MONASKA.     None? 
HAIJO.  I  said  it — none. 

MONASKA.  That  cannot  be. 

My  birth 

HAIJO.     Who  knows  the  place  that  he  was  born 

To  fill? 
MONASKA.     High  aspirations  thrill  my  soul. 

More  blest  the  short-lived  moths  that  fly  to 

flame 
Straight  through  a  pathway  lit  by  coming  light 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  2g 

HAIJO.     Have  higher  still.    You  will  be  like  a  god. 

(Aside.) 
Now  will  I  see  if  he  divine  my  meaning. 

MONASKA.     It  may  be  when  I  die. 

HAIJO  (aside). 

Is  not  divined;  or,  if  it  be, 
He  does  not  dream  it  will  apply  to  him. 

(To  MONASKA.) 

No;    you    mistook    my    thought.     I    spoke   of 
earth. 

MONASKA.     Of  earth? — You  know,  sire,  I  can  tell 

it  you — 
You  know  about  the  weaknesses  of  youth  ? 

HAIJO.     Yes,  you  can  tell  me  all. 

MONASKA.  I  am  not  one 

Has  lived  or  worked  with  other  men.     My  soul 
Has  dwelt  alone,  and  sails  the  waves  of  life 
Like  some  stray  oil-drop  lost  upon  the  sea, 
Refusing  still,  however  wildly  tossing, 
To  lose  or  fuse  itself  in  things  about  it. 
I  have  so  craved  a  mate !  but,  whoso  came, 
The  spirit  that  is  in  me  would  deny 
My  clasping  to  a  heart  that  might  not  beat 
In  time  to  pulses  of  another's  purpose. 
So  what  I  would  caress,  I  dared  not  touch, 


Than  long-lived  worms  that  crawl  thro'  endless  mire. 
HAIJO.     Yours  will  be  lit  by  coming  light. 
MONASKA.  And  I, 


3O  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

For  fear  the  rhythm  throbbing  in  my  veins 
Would  prove  discordant  and  reveal  us  foes. 
HAIJO.     Ah!  love  you  wish  ? 
MONASKA.  Ay,  sire,  I  would  be  loved. 

HAIJO.      You    think    that    strange    at    your    age, 

strange? 
MONASKA.     Not  strange  the  wish — but  could  it  be 

fulfilled— 

HAIJO.     I  said  it  should  be.     You  shall  be  so  loved 
That  you   will    yearn  for  rivals  more  than  see 

them.10 
MONASKA    (looking    at    W  A  PELL  A,    who  has  been 

watching  them  eagerly,  and  now  rises). 
Come  tell  his  fortune  too. 
WAPELLA.  Yes,  mine. 

Enter— from  the  Right — WALOON  and  the  KING. 
HAIJO.  The  King. 

(All  bow.      The  KING  speaks  aside  to  HAIJO.) 
The  King  desires  that  you  retire,  you  three. 
{Motioning  to  MONASKA,  WAPELLA  and  WALOON.) 
Exeunt— at  the   Left—  MONASKA,    WAPELLA    and 
WALOON. 


10MoNASKA.     Will  yearn — but  how  can  this  be  true? 

You  jest. 

HAIJO.     Is  it  my  face  or  robe  you  deem  a  jester's? 
MONASKA.     You  mean  it? 

HAIJO.  It  is  in  your  hand,  your  face. 

I  told  you  I  had  had  experience. 


THE  AZl'EC  GOD.  31 

KING  (to  HAIJO). 

What  think  you? 
HAIJO.  Just  what  she  has  told  you,  sire. 

No  doubt,  about  the  beauty  of  the  men. 
KING.     Nor  of  her  love? 

HAIJO.  It  seems  to  augur  well. 

KING.     I  feel  not  sure  about  your  method. 
HAIJO.  No?— 

In  lands  like  ours,  a  land  controlled  by  law, 

Illegal  force  will  rouse  the  people's  wrath. 

But  let  her  love  the  one  we  make  a  god, 

And  wed  his  ghost,  and  dwell  within  the  temple ; 

There  he  who  is  the  head  of  our  religion 

Can  rightly  represent  the  god, — not  so? 
KING.     I  see — a  portion  of  the  heaven  of  which 

The  priesthood  holds  the  key,  is  on  the  earth. 
HAIJO  (suddenly  turning  the  subject}. 

Sire,  we  must  have  some  foe  to  sacrifice. 

For  this  year 

KING.  You  will  furnish  one  insured 

To  break  this  maiden's  heart. 
HAIJO.  A  colt  once  broke 

Drives  easily. 


Why  do  you  doubt  ? 
MONASKA.  Because  life  never  brought 

Aught  like  it. 
HAIJO.     Life  brings  day  as  well  as  night, 

When  day,  the  wise  will  use  the  sunshine. 


32  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

KING.  Let  me  not  doubt  again 

What  power  incarnates  Providence  on  earth. 
Lead  out  this  coming  god. 

HAIJO  (looking  toward  the  Left).     Waloon,  the  King 
Desires  to  see  the  prisoners. 
Enter — from  the  Left — WALOON,  MONASK A  and 

WAPELLA. 
KING  (aside,  as  he  looks  at  MONASK  A). 

Yes,  yes, 

He  is  a  fine  one,  no  mistake!     Poor  girl! — 
But  what  were  life  without  its  discipline? 
And  what  are  kings  and  priests  for  but  to  give 

it? 

No  fetes  are  feasts  with  every  course  alike ; 
And  all  fare  better  who  begin  with  bitters. 

(To  MONASKA  and  WAPELLA.) 
Young  men,  your  warriors  came  a  long,  hard  way 
To  fight  with  us.     They  should  have  stayed  at 

home. 

MONASKA.     Our  king,  sire,  sent  them  forth. 
KING.  Good!     We  shall  keep 

Their  flesh  to  fertilize  our  fields,  and  see 
That  he  has  less  to  send  the  next  time.     Ha! 
(WARRIORS  appear  on  every  side,  and,  at  a  sign 
from  the  KING,  draw  their  bows  on  MO 
NASKA  and  WAPELLA). 

Waloon,  stand  back,  there,  from  the  prisoners. 
WALOON  (to  KING). 

Ah,  but  you  will  not  kill  them,  will  ybu,  sire? 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  33 

KING.     Why  not? — They  would  kill  us.     We  only 

do 

What  they  would  do. 
MONASKA  (aiming  his  bow). 

Perhaps,  when  this  has  gone 
Through  you,  and  through  your  pals  too. 
WALOON  (hurrying  between  KING  and  MONASKA, 

and  speaking  to  MONASKA).     Wait. 
MONASKA  (bowing  to  WALOON). 

For  you. 
WALOON  (to  KING). 

Ah,  sire,  was  it  for  this  I  urged  them  not 
To  fly  from  here? — You  surely  will  adopt  them? 
KING.     And  you  would  save  my  life  and  save  his 
too? 

(To  MONASKA.) 

We  both  owe  something  to  her  love,  you  see. 
MONASKA  (to  KING). 

I  read  my  pardon  in  your  own  face  now. 
KING.     I  feel  no  pity,  and  no  love  for  you. 
If  you  are  saved  here,  she  alone  has  done  it 
Thank  her. 
MONASKA  (kneeling  to  her). 

I  will,  as  I  would  thank  an  angel. 
KING  (to  HAIJO,  aside). 

You  see — we  made  no  promises.     Keep  watch 
And  never  let  them  be  alone  together. 

CURTAIN. 


34  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


ACT  SECOND. 

SCENE  : — A  walled  open  space  within  an  Aztec  fort. 
Backing  at  the  Right,  a  closed  gate  guarded  by 
SOLDIERS  ;  at  the  Left,  the  beginnings  of  a  pyramid 
such  as  formed  an  Aztec  temple.  On  the  lower 
steps  of  this  structure,  forming  a  sort  of  throne  for 
the  KING,  rugs,  etc.  On  the  Right  Side  of  stage,  trees. 
On  the  Left  Side  of  stage  at  the  Third  Left  En- 
.  trance,  curtains  before  a  building  evidently  connected 
with  the  temple.  Entrances:  several  at  the  Right 
through  the  trees  ;  at  the  Right  Center  through  the 
Gateway  ;  at  the  Left  Second  to  one  side  of  the  Tem 
ple  ;  at  the  Left  Third,  through  curtains  into  the 
Temple;  at  the  Upper  Left  between  the  Temple  and 
the  Pyramid.  Curtain  rises  on  the  gray  light  of 
dawn.  Guards  are  at  the  gates,  prisoners  grouped 
about  the  space.  MONASKA  and  WAPELLA  near  Left 
Front. 

WAPELLA.     I  do  not  understand  this. 

MONASKA.  No  ;  but  half 

The  interest  of  life  is  in  its  puzzles. 

WAPELLA.     I  thought  they  set  us  free. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  35 

MONASKA.  I  often  think 

Some  one  is  just  about  to  set  me  free. 
I  never  found  him  yet. 
WAPELLA.  We  fare  no  better 

Than  these,  our  fellow-prisoners. 
MONASKA.  That  seems 

A  lesson  to  our  self-conceit.     The  wise 
Are  grateful  to  their  teachers. 
WAPELLA.  You  are  sanguine. 

MONASKA.     Some  men  are  born  with  light,  aspir 
ing  blood 
That,    bounding    brainward,    keeps    the    whole 

frame  glowing. 
WAPELLA  {pointing  to  the  other  prisoners). 

These  men  expect  us  to  be  put  to  death. 
MONASKA.     And  some  are  born  with  heavy,  slug 
gish  blood, 
That   will    not    leave    the   heart   but    keeps   it 

weighted. 
WAPELLA.     They  say  they  know  the  customs  of  the 

place. 
MONASKA.     We  know  its  characters  —  the  maid, 

priest,  king 

WAPELLA.     They  say  that  captives  here  are  sacri 
ficed. 
MONASKA.     Not  those  the  king  himself  has  once 

adopted. 

WAPELLA.     Then  say  why  we  are  prisoned  in  a 
temple. 


OF 


36  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA.     Humph!     your    conundrum!      Have 

not  thought  of  it. 
WAPELLA.     No;  nor  of  anything  outside  the  maid 

You  have  enshrined  there  in  your  heart. 
MONASKA.  With  reason! 

WAPELLA.     Would  reason  drop  the  curtain  of  the 

eye, 

And  dwell  in  darkness,  and  be  proud  of  it? 
Monaska,  you  are  dreaming.     You  must  wake 
And  join  us  in  our  effort  to  escape. 
MONASKA.     You  make  it  for  yourselves.    Why  wait 

for  me? 

WAPELLA.     Why? — You  outrank  us. 
MONASKA.  There  are  no  ranks  here. 

WAPELLA.     A  leader,  if  he  lead  not,  shames  his 

birthright. 

Besides,  we  two  have  weapons  left  with  us. 
You  keep  your  club;    I  mine.     The  rest  have 

none. 

Perhaps  they  merely  overlooked  our  arms, 
And,  when  the  morning  comes,  will  take  them 

from  us. 

Before  that,  when  the  other  guards  withdraw, 
As  they  do  always,  when  the  signal  sounds, 

11  for  home. 

MONASKA.     The  home  to  which  the  spider  traps  the  fly ! 
WAPELLA.     No  soldiers  watch  that  side  the  gate. 

19  WAPELLA.  Rather  than 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  37 

We  can  attack  the  two  they  leave  behind. 
Each  kill  his  man,  and,  while  the  rest  break  down 
The  gate  behind,  can  all  of  us  rush  out, 
O'ertake  our  friends  and  fly  with  them.11 
MONASKA.  And  we, 

To  show  our  gratitude  for  being  saved, 
Will  leave  two  prostrate,  murdered  forms  behind 
To  do  obeisance  for  us  !ia 
WAPELLA.  They  are  foes. 

Can  you  a  moment  balance  them  against 
Your  time-tried  friends  ? 

Exeunt— at  the  Left  Upper  Entrance— all  the 
GUARDS  but  two,  who  stand  each  side  the 
gate. 

Look  !     Now  the  guards  have  left. 
Monaska,  come — I  said  you  would. — They  wait. 

(Pointing  to  other  PRISONERS.  ) 
MONASKA.     You  seem  suspicious. 
WAPELLA  (excitedly]     Dare  you  tackle  them  ? 
MONASKA  (angrily). 

Talk  not  of  daring !     I  will  tackle  you. 
WAPELLA  (excited,  but  trying  to  control  himself}. 
Forgive  me — Why,  you  know  I  am  your  friend. 


Harm  them,  we  all  here  should  be  murdered,  eh? 
MONASKA.     If  there  were  fear  of  that,  the  maid  would 
never 

Have  pleaded  for  us. 
WAPELLA.  They  are  all  our  foes,  etc. 


38  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

We    all   are   friends.     Monaska,    will   you   join 

us? 
MONASKA.     Turn  traitor  to  the  ones  that  saved  us  ? — 

No. 

WAPELLA.     But  to  your  own  land  and  your  lands 
men,  yes. 

MONASKA  (drawing  his  club,  and  springing  toward 
WAPELLA). 

That  you  must  prove,  or 

(WAPELLA  draws  his  club  and  defends  himself?) 
SOLDIER  (at gate).     Hold! 

Enter— from  the   Left — other   SOLDIERS   and 
OFFICER.       They    separate,  with   spears, 
MONASKA  and  WAPELLA. 
WAPELLA  (to  MONASKA). 

Now  you  have  proved  it. 
OFFICER  (to  MONASKA  and  WAPELLA). 

Your  clubs. 

MONASKA.     We  were  adopted.     We  are  free. 
OFFICER   (as  he   motions  to  SOLDIERS  to  take  the 

clubs). 
You  will  not  need  these,  then,  to  guard  yourselves. 

(SOLDIERS  take  the  clubs.) 

Enter — through  the  curtains  at  the  Left — HAIJO^ 
KOOTHA  and  other  PRIESTS.  HAIJO  as 
cends  the  steps  of  pyramid  near  the  rugs. 
In  his  hand  is  a  parchment?) 

OFFICER  (to  MONASKA,  WAPELLA  and  other  prisoners). 
Stand  back,  and  hear  the  royal  proclamation. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  39 

HAIJO  (reading). 

Know,  all  ye  captives,  who  have  proved  your  worth 
By  warding  off  when  in  the  brunt  of  war 
The  stroke  aimed  well  to  fell  you,  know  to-day 
This  temple  celebrates  its  yearly  f£te ; 
And  hither  wend  the  maidens  of  the  realm. 
Commend  yourselves  to  them,  and  woman's  love 
Like  that  which  gave  our  land  its  natural  sons, 
Will  make  you  sons  of  its  adoption,  sons 
And  lovers,  fit  to  claim  their  heart's  devotion. 
For  why  should  brave  springs  flow  to  waste,  and 

not 

Augment  the  channels  of  the  nation's  life  ? — 
Go  seek  your  cells,  make  ready,  and  come  forth, 
And  know  the  highest  honors  wait  for  him 
Whose   charms   prove   greatest  for  the  greatest 
number. 

MONASKA  (to  WAPELLA). 
There,  there.     I  told  you  so. 

WAPELLA.  Well,  we  shall  see 

MONASKA.     That   I    shall   wed   the  woman   of  my 
choice. 

Exeunt — Left  Second  Entrance — all  the  PRISONERS 
except  WAPELLA. 

KOOTHA  (aside ',  and  looking  toward  MONASKA). 
What  fools  we  are  when  we  would  read  ourselves. 
He  thinks  he  craves  the  honors  promised  him 
Whose  charms  prove  greatest  for  the  greatest 
number. 


4O  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Alas,  the  one  thing  that  his  nature  craves, 
Is  not  a  number. 
Exeunt — Left  Second  Entrance — WAPELLA,  followed 

by  some  of  the  SOLDIERS. 

(KOOTHA  coming    toward  a   PRIEST,    to    whom   he 
speaks}. 

Ah !     That  proclamation 
Was  worthy  of  the  priest  that  penned  it. 
PRIEST.  Why  ? 

KOOTHA.     Must  be  received  with  faith  to  seem  a 

blessing ; 

And  holds  a  promise  that,  whatever  come, 
Will  stand. 

PRIEST.         And  be  fulfilled. 
KOOTHA.  Oh,  yes — in  form! 

But  nothing  like  a  priest's  grip  on  a  form 
To  squeeze  the  spirit  out  of  it. 

Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — WALOON. 
PRIEST.  In  that 

The  promise  pars  with  life;  for  nothing  earthly 
Fulfills  a  promise  just  as  it  was  given. 
KOOTHA.    Ay,  while  the  eyes  of  hope  are  looking  up, 
The  devil  trips  the  feet.     But  why  should  gods 
Make  priests  play  devil? 


13  And  go  to  him. 
KOOTHA  (aside  looking  at  HAIJO). 

Oh,  no,  no  !     After  death 
I  shall  be  freed,  I  think,  from  following  him. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  41 

PRIEST  (noticing  HAIJO  advancing). 

Hold  ;  you  may  play  die.13 
(The  stage  grows  gradually  brighter?) 
(Exit — Left    Front  Entrance — KOOTHA    and   other 

PRIESTS.) 
WALOON  (to  HAIJO). 

Can  it  be  true  ? 
HAIJO.  What  true  ? 

WALOON.  Why,  that  the  king 

Will  put  Monaska  to  the  maiden's  test  ? 
HAIJO.     Of  course. 
WALOON.  Of  course  ? 

HAIJO.  Why  not  ? 

WALOON.  Because  the  king 

Adopted  him. 
HAIJO.  But  you  would  not  deprive 

The  captive  of  his  rights  ? 
WALOON.  His  rights  ? 

HAIJO.  What  right 

Can  any  man  have  grander  than  to  be 

A  god?14 

WALOON.  I  love  him. 

HAIJO.  Then,  if  he  should  be 

The  chosen  of  the  gods,  this  would  confirm 

14  WALOON.     A  few- weeks'  god  ? 

HAIJO.  Why,  yes.     You  know 

The  joy  of  life  is  in  its  quality, 
Not  quantity.     A  heaven  on  earth — what  is  it 


42  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Your  choice,  and  thus  exalt  both  you  and  him.15 
WALOON.     I  would  not  have  him  there.     I  wish  him 

here. 
HAIJO.     If  earth  held  all  our  souls  could  wish,  no 

soul 

Could  ever  wish  for  heaven. 

WALOON.  My  heaven  holds  love, 

And  what  thrives  there  thrives  here,  and  has  a 

right 

To  all  things  men  can  rightly  let  it  have.16 
Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — the  KING  with 
ATTENDANTS. 


But  having  what  one  wishes  ? 

WALOON.  This  is  cruel. 

HAIJO.     There  are  a  score  or  more  of  prisoners. 
We  need  a  man  whose  bearing  can  supply 
Attractions  that  will  draw  the  souls  o  f  all 
Toward  him  and  toward  the  god  he  represents. 
The  surest  way  of  choosing  such  a  man 
Is  this  one  which  the  royal  will  decrees. 

WALOON.     You  know  his  beauty.     They  would  all 
choose  him. 

HAIJO.     Oh,  no,  no ;  none  know  that ;  and  if  they 

did, 

Would  it  be  just  in  us  to  fail  for  this 
To  let  him  be  the  chosen  of  the  gods? 

WALOON.     No, — of  the  maidens. 

HAIJO.  Of  the  maidens'  love. 

And  what  than  woman's  love  is  more  like  gods'  ? 


THE   AZTEC  GOD.  43 

WALOON  (to  KING). 

Great  sire,  they  plan  to  do  a  great  wrong  here. 
KING.     How  so?     It  shall  be  righted. 
HAIJO  (to  KING). 

She  would  keep 

Monaska  from  the  test  that  makes  him  god. 
KING.     Oh — but — he  has  a  right  to  it. 
WALOON.  Yet,  sire, 

A  right  that  wrongs  your  kindly  pardoning  him. 
KING.     Why,  no,  no !  all  our  captives  have  that  right. 
WALOON.     But,  sire,  he,  he  would  be  the  choice  of 
all. 


WALOON.     Oh,  this  is  fearful,  fearful!     Think  of  me, 
HAIJO.     Of  you? 

15  WALOON.     But  then  he  would  belong — oh,  not  to 

me ! 

But  to  the  world,  and  to  the  world  of  women. 
HAIJO.     The  thought  of  that  is  not  inspiring? 
WALOON.  No. 

And  soon  he  would  be  gone 

HAIJO.  Among  the  gods. 

16  HAIJO.     Save  when  the  gods 

WALOON.  The  gods  I  cannot  see  : 

In  front  of  me  I  only  see  a  man. 
HAIJO.     Then  pray  the  gods  to  give  you  light. 
WALOON.  How  can 

I  pray  the  gods  to  give  me  light,  if  those 

That  have  been  sent  to  lead  me  where  it  shines 

Forever  stand  betwixt  my  soul  and  it? 


44  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

KING.     So  much  more  reason  he  should  have  his 

chance. 

WALOON.     But  I — I — love  him. 
HAIJO.  If  you  loved  him  truly, 

You  scarce  would  dare  to  stand  between  him, 

then, 

And  that  which  lifts  him  to  the  gods. 
WALOON.  You  know 

I  pleaded  for  his  life. 

(  Turning  toward  the  KING.) 
You  gave  it  him. 

Now  all  of  you  seem  plotting  for  his  death. 
HAIJO.     Monaska  had  his  choice. 
WALOON.  His  choice  ? 

why»  yes-17 

(The  KING  nods  approvingly,  and  moves  on  with 
ATTENDANTS  toward  the  pyramid?) 

WALOON  (to  HAIJO). 
You  told  him  all  ? 

HAIJO.  Oh,  no,  not  all.     Why  should  I  ? 

WALOON.     Then  I  will  tell  him. 

HAIJO.  When  the  priests  enjoin  it. 

Till  then,  the  only  lips  that  can  reveal 
One  temple-secret  speak  from  realms  of  death. 
And  if  as  yet  they  have  not  entered  these, 
It  will  become  our  duty  to  transfer  them. 

17  WALOON.     When  was  it  ? 

HAIJO.  In  the  woods.     "  More  blest,"  he  cried, 

"More  blest  the  short-lived'  moths  that  fly  to  flame 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  45 

WALOON  (surprised  and  in  solicitude). 
I  cannot  speak  to  him  ? 

HAIJO.  Speak  all  you  wish. 

But  if  he  learn  too  much,  he  cannot  hide  it. 

WALOON.     Oh,  cruel!     I  may  speak — show  all  I 

wish — 
Except    what    fills    the    fount    from    which    it 

springs. 

Can  you  not  see  what  pain  alone  can  keep 
The  ever-swelling,  surging,  flood  within? — 
Go  bid  the  lake  sleep  on  unheard,  unseen, 
Whose  tribute-streams  are  dashed  from  cataracts, 
Or  waves  are  whirled  by  winds  up  toward  the 
clouds 

HAIJO.     Ah,  has  it  gone  so  far? 

WALOON.  Oh,  sire,  too  oft, 

A  mood  but  half  expressed  is  all  distressed. 
What  now  is  left  my  soul! 

HAIJO.  One  course  is  left. 

The  surest  way  to  keep  from  feeling  things 
Is  not  to  touch  them. 

WALOON.  What  were  best  for  me, 

Is  not  the  question.     I  would  ward  from  him 
The  fatal  blight  that  follows  woman's  love, 
Accursed  love,  that  makes  the  brightest  eye 
A  sunglass  through  which  heaven  would  wilt  the 
soul, 

Straight  through  a  pathway  lit  by  coming  light 
Than  long-lived  worms  that  crawl  through  endless 
mire." 


46  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

And  by  the  very  pleasure  beauty  gives      • 
Mete  out  the  measure  of  impending  doom. 
HAIJO.     What  will  you  do  then  ? 
WALOON.  Save  him  if  I  can. 

(Blast  of  trumpets,  followed  by  music.  The 
KING  and  ATTENDANTS  arrange  them 
selves  on  the  rugs  at  the  base  of  the  pyra 
mid.  The  gates  backing  at  the  Right  are 
thrown  open.) 

Exit — Left  Second  Entrance,  very  hastily,  WALOON. 
HAIJO  (aside). 

Poor  fool !    She  does  not  know  the  surest  way 

To  guard  her  lover  from  the  love  of  all 

Is  letting  him  alone.     About  the  lips 

Found  sweet  by  merely  one,  all  swarm  like  bees. 

But  let  that  one  forsake  him  all  forsake  him. 

Enter — through  the  Gate  backing  at  the  Right 
— Procession  of  MAIDENS  and  others, 
bearing  banners  and  wreaths  and  decorated 
with  flowers.  All  sing  from  the  following : 

Where  dwell  the  gods  ? 
Where  dwell  the  gods  ? 
Oh,  dwell  they  in  the  sky? 
Or  come  they  near  in  gloom  or  gleam 
Of  earth  or  air  or  wood  or  stream  ? 
Oh,  yes,  the  gods  are  all  on  high ; 
But,  robed  in  all  that  teem  or  seem 
Where  eye  can  spy  or  fancy  fly, 
The  gods  are  always  nigh. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


How  speak  the  gods  ? 
How  speak  the  gods  ? 
In  thunder  from  the  sky  ? 
In  storms  that  o'er  the  cloud-banks  pour, 
Or  dash  in  waves  along  the  shore  ? 
Oh,  yes,  the  gods  are  all  on  high ; 
But  not  alone  in  rush  and  roar, 

Wherever  breeze  or  breath  can  sigh 
The  gods  are  always  nigh. 

How  touch  the  gods  ? 
How  touch  the  gods  ? 
Oh,  reach  they  from  the  sky 
Wherever  airy  fingers  brush 
The  leaves  that  throb,  the  cheeks  that  flush  ? 

Oh,  yes,  the  gods  are  all  on  high; 
But  in  the  thrills  that  fill  the  hush 
When  naught  without  is  passing  by, 
The  gods  are  always  nigh. 

Where  look  the  gods  ? 

Where  look  the  gods  ? 

In  glances  from  the  sky  ? 

Down  through  the  lightning's   death-dealt  blaze, 
Or  thrilling  through  the  starry  rays  ? 
Oh,  yes,  the  gods  are  all  on  high  ; 
But  in  the  looks  that  on  us  gaze 
From  out  the  love-lit  human  eye 
The  gods  are  always  nigh. 

(While  singing,  the  MAIDENS  arrange  them 
selves  in  line  from  Front  to  Rear  at  the 
Right  of  staged] 

KING  (looking  toward  Left  Second  Entrance). 
And  now  bring  forth  the  prisoners. 


48  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

OFFICER  (standing  near  this  entrance). 

They  come. 

KING  (gesturing  with  his  right  hand}. 
Arrange  them  here  in  line. 

Enter  —  Left  Second  Entrance  —  CAPTIVES, 
and  are  marched  and  formed  in  a  line  at 
the  Left  between  the  pyramid  and  the 
Front  of  the  stage.  MONASKA  e?iters  last, 
and  stands  nearest  the  Left  Front  En 
trance. 
Enter — at  the  Left  Front  Entrance — WALOON,  and 

stands  at  the  Left  of  MONASKA. 
KING.  Now  shall  the  eyes 

Of  gods  above  look  through  the  brightest  eyes 
Whose  glances  light  the    earth,  and   whom    those 

eyes 

Adore  the  most,  him  too  shall  all  adore. 
(The  KING,  looking  at  the  CAPTIVES,  converses   with 

his  ATTENDANTS.) 
(The  MAIDENS  look  at  CAPTIVES,  especially  at  those 

nearest  the  pyramid,  and  converse  together.} 
WALOON  (to   MONASKA,    in  a   half  whisper,  and  not 

observed  by  others  except  him}. 
Monaska. 
MONASKA  (turning  to  her). 

What? 

WALOON.  Look  this  way. 

MONASKA.  Could  I  else  ? — 

(Gesturing  and  looking  toward  the  MAIDENS.) 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  49 

Yet  must  I  seek  the  favor  of  these  maids. 
WALOON.     Is  not  the  favor  of  one  maid  enough  ? 

MONASKA.     Enough  and  more — yet  here 

WALOON.  Confide  in  me. 

VEoNASKA.     Yes,  wholly. 

WALOON.  Then  be  wholly  what  I  wish. 

VtoNASKA.     Be  what? 
SALOON.  One  who  will  not  attract  attention. 

MONASKA.     Why,  then 

WALOON.  You  might  seem  wholly  mine. 

VtoNASKA  (aside,  looking  toward  other  MAIDENS). 

I  see — 

0  brightest  hour  of  all  my  life  ! — I  see 
She  loves — and  love,  if  shorn  of  jealousy, 
Drops  half  its  charms,  like  maids  whose  locks 

are  clipped, 

And  better  might  be  boys,  or  bald-head-babes. 
WALOON  (taking  him  by  the  sleeve). 

Monaska. 
MONASKA  (aside,  without  looking  at  her). 

Now  I  heed  her  not.    At  times, 
Deceit  that  spices  daintily  with  doubt 
The  plain-served  truth  more  seasons  it  to  taste. 
WALOON  (touching  him    again,  and  moving  toward 

Left — Front  Entrance). 

Here — something  this  way  I  would  have  you  see. 
MONASKA  (looking  at  her,  then  speaking  aside). 

1  must  not  lose  my  chances  with  the  maids. 
And  yet  will  humor  her,  and  then  return. 

4 


SO  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

(Turns  toward  WALOON  and  bows.) 
Exit— at  the  Left  Front— WALOON. 
The  highest  honors  wait  for  him  alone 
Whose  charms  prove  greatest  for  the  greatest 
number. 

Exit — at  the  Left  Front — MONASKA. 
KING  (to  the  MAIDENS). 
Now  to  select  your  mates. 

(To  the  CAPTIVES.) 

Come  forward,  men. 

(To  HAIJO,  looking  toward  Left  Eront  Entrance^ 
Saw  you  those   two  depart.     She   plans  to  tell 

him. 

(MAIDENS  and  CAPTIVES  mingle  and  talk.) 
HAIJO  (to  KING). 

She  will  not;  no.     She  will  not  dare. 
KING.  What  then? 

HAIJO.     They  will  return. 
KING.  But  if  they  love? 

HAIJO.  Then  she 

Will  play  the  woman,  try  to  fascinate 
His   eye,    spell-bound    till   blind   to   charms   of 

others. 
KING.     And  he? 


18  Not  here. 

MONASKA.     Then  I  shall  have  to  dance  alone. 
WALOON.     Why  should  you  dance  at  all? 
MONASKA.  Why? — Ask  the  leaves 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  51 

HAIJO.  He  is  a  man.     What  man  will  barter 

Self-love  for  woman's  love? 
KING.  He  may. 

HAIJO.  If  so, 

Some  other  will  be  chosen. 
KING.  He  must  be  it. 

HAIJO.     Safe  statement,   sire  !     Small  danger  any 

man 

Will  waive  his  chances  for  the  highest  honor 
To  please  a  heart  whose  love  is  won  already. 
KING.     You  may  be  right. 
HAIJO.  It  might  be  well  to  send 

A  message  to  remind  him  of  his  chances. 
(To  a  MESSENGER,  and  pointing  toward  Left  Front 

Entranced) 

Saw  you  those  two  retiring  to  the  left. 
Remind  them  of  the  royal  proclamation. 

Exit — Left  Second  Entrance — MESSENGER. 
(Music  and  dance  in  which  CAPTIVES  and  MAIDENS 

join.     As  the  dancing  ends,) 
Enter — Left  Front  Entrance — MONASKA  and 

WALOON. 

MONASKA.     You  will  not  dance  with  me,  Waloon  ? 
WALOON.  No,  no." 


The  reason  why  they  vibrate  in  the  breeze, 
Or  ask  the  trees  when  swaying  in  the  storm  ; 
Ask  of  the  spray-drop  leaping  from  the  rill, 
Or  up  and  down  amid  the  waves  at  sea ; 


52  THE  AZTEC  GOD 

( Trying  to  draw  MONASKA  toward  the  Left  Front 
Entrance. ) 

Monaska,  do  come  this  way — do, — I  fear 

MONASKA.     You  must  not  fear  for  me. 

WALOON.  You  do  not  know 

MONASKA  (taking  her  hand). 

You  tremble. 

WALOON.  Oh,  love,  do  have  faith  in  me! 

MONASKA.     And  have  I  none?     You  tremble  like 

a  bird 
That  once  I  caught.     Poor  thing,  I  could  not 

harm  it, 

So  beautiful,  so  soft,  with  chirp  so  sweet! 
WALOON.     But  if  you  look  that  way,  you  do  not 

love  me. 
MONASKA.     And  am  I  everything  to  you  that  you 


Ask  of  the  circling  smoke,  tornado's  cloud, 
The  sun  and  moon  revolving  round  the  world. 
But  when  the  throb  of  music  beats  the  air 
And  sets  the  currents  of  the  breast  in  motion, 
Sweeping  the  bounding  rills  to  rhythmic  waves 
That  dash  like  breakers  through  the  heart  and  pulse, 
Ask  not  why  every  vein  begins  to  glow, 
Each  nerve  to  tremble,  all  the  frame  to  heave, 
And  to  and  fro  to  march,  to  leap,  to  dance, — 
Enough — if  natural ! — You  check  our  nature, 
You  lay  your  human  hands  upon  the  work 
Heaven  meant  for  what  it  is  ;  you  are  profane. 
(He  makes  motions  of  dancing.) 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  53 

Should  fancy  you  are  everything  to  me? 
WALOON.     And  am  I  not  then? 
MONASKA.  What  a  fire  divine 

Must  blaze  within  a  woman's  heart,  who  deems 
That  her  one  form  enkindled  by  its  light 
Casts  all  things  else  in  shade ! 
WALOON.  Do  men  love  less? 

MONASKA.     Nay,  but  have  eyes  for  things  they  do 

not  love. 
And  I,  you  know,  am  young,  have  seen  not  much, 

{Looking  toward  MAIDENS  again.} 
And  nothing  of  these  rites  you  know  so  well. 
WALOON.     That  whets  my  fear.     I  know  them  all 

too  well. 

MONASKA.     My  nerves  are  sensitive  to  form  and 
hue. 

FIRST  MAIDEN  {pointing  toward  MONASKA  and  speaking  to 

SECOND  MAIDEN). 
There  comes  another. 
SECOND  M.  Where? 

FIRST  M.  There  with  Waloon. 

THIRD  M.     Oh,  see ! 
FIRST  M.  We  go  to  him. 

SECOND  M.  No,  no  ;  not  yet. 

Look  there  at  that  one. 
{Pointing  toward  WAPELLA,  who   is  near   the   Left    Upper 

Entrance.} 

THIRD  M.  Which  one? 

SECOND  M.  That  one  there. 

(All  three  MAIDS  move  toward  Left  Upper  Entrance.} 


54  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

A  little  flitting  of  the  two  but  serves 
To  irritate  and  make  me  itch  for  more. 
But  let  me  once  be  free  to  bound  and  whirl 
And  scratch  my  gaze  upon  them  in  the  dance, 
What  cures  me  will  not  scar  below  the  surface. 
Yes;  I  have  better  avenues  through  which 
These  outer  visions  reach  the  heart.     Besides, 
That  now  is  wholly  filled.     No  room  is  left 
For  more  than  one.     Believe  me,  I  speak  truth. 

WALOON.     I  know — I  do  not  doubt  you,  but 

MONASKA    (laughing}. 

You  do. 
Come,  come,  confess  now.     You  are  jealous  of  me. 

WALOON.     Not  so !     No,  you  mistake  me.     Would 

the  gods 
Would  tell  you  why,  or  let  me  tell  you  why  ! 

MONASKA.     You  dare  not  tell  me  ? 

WALOON.  Nay,  I  dare  not ;  yet — 

MONASKA.     Then,  let  me  know  it. 

WALOON.  Come  this  way. 

MONASKA.  I  will. 

(Aside,  as  WALOON  moves   toward  Left  Front  En 
tranced) 

May  be  some  untold  penalty  awaits 
The  one  who  fails  to  win  the  maidens'  favor. 

(Turns  to  follow   WALOON,  just  as   HAIJO   reaches 
him-,  coming  from  the  rear?) 

HAIJO  (to  MONASKA). 

What,  man,  you  fear  not  you  are  losing  time  ? 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  55 

MONASKA  (to  HAIJO). 

When  gaining  something  better? 
HAIJO.  What  is  better? 

MONASKA.     The  worth  of  time  is  measured   like  a 

gem's 

Not  by  its  bulk  but  by  its  brilliancy. 
HAIJO.     Just  what  I  told  Waloon  you  thought. 
(To  WALOON  who  is  listening?) 

Not  so  ? 
(To  MONASKA.) 

But  you — you  heard  the  royal  proclamation  ? 
MONASKA.     I  did. 

HAIJO.        And  you  would  waive  the  highest  honor  ? 
MONASKA.     For  something  else,  could  I  not  have 

them  both. 

HAIJO.     And  wherefore  not  have  both  ? — 
(To  WALOON.) 

You  know,  Waloon, 
He  can. 
MONASKA  (to  WALOON). 

I  can,  Waloon? 
WALOON.  Have  I  not  said? — 

Will  you  believe  ? 

HAIJO.  This  maiden,  or  the  king  ? — 

MONASKA.     This  maiden. 
HAIJO.  Traitor ! 

MONASKA.  And  the  king. 

HAIJO.  Prove  that 

By  joining  in  the  dance. — Come, — both  together. 


56  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

WALOON.      Not  I  ! 
MONASKA  (aside  to  WALOON). 

Waloon,  you  need  not  fear  for  me, 
For  if  I  venture  in  the  dance  at  all, 
I  dance  to  win. 
WALOON  (anxiously). 

No,  no;  I  meant  - 


around  MONASKA  and  WALOON.) 
FIRST  MAIDEN.  Come,  come. 

(To  WALOON.) 

And  dance  with  us  if  not  with  her. 
SECOND  M.  (taking  MONASKA  by  the  hand). 

Come  on. 

THIRD  M.     Yes,  come. 
FIRST  M.  You  must. 

THIRD  M.  No  backing  out  ! 

SECOND  M.  (taking  his  hand). 

With  me. 

(They  drag  him  with  them  into  the  dance?) 
WALOON  (looking  after  him,  as  the  music  begins). 
Why  did  he  not  believe  me?     He  is  lost! 
(All  the  MAIDENS  and  CAPTIVES  dance?) 
Exit  —  Left  First  Entrance  —  WALOON. 
KING.     Now,  silence  !     Let  the  maids  declare  their 

choice, 
Their  chief  choice,  gathering  round  his  figure 

whom 
The  god  of  love  that  looks  through  love-lit  eyes, 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  57 

The  spirit  that  inspires  love-throbbing  hearts, 
Finds  dowered  with  dignity  and  manly  grace 
And  beauty,  and  all  heart-inspiring  charms 
That  fitly  can  incarnate  love's  ideal. 

Music. 

(The  CAPTIVES   stand  in  a  line  at  the  Left  of 
the  stage ;  MONASKA  not  far  from    its 
front.     The   MAIDENS,  march   along  the 
line  of  the  CAPTIVES,  and  drop  flowers  or 
wreaths  in  front  of  MONASKA.      Some 
drop  them  in  front  of  others,  but,  seeing 
that  MONASKA  will  surely  be  chosen,  they 
take  the  flowers  from  others  and  cast  them 
before  him,  and  gather  round  him. 
KING  (descending  from  his  seat  on  the  pyramid  and 
taking  MONASKA  by  the  hand,pointing  with  his 
free  hand  toward  the  seat  he  has  just  left,  at  the 
same  time  bowing  to  MONASKA). 
Chosen  of  love,  now  bow  we  to  your  worth. 
We  yield  to  you,  and  lead  you  to  your  place. 
(All  except  the  KING  prostrate  themselves  before  MO 
NASKA.) 
MONASKA.     You  do  me  too  much  honor. 

(The  KING  bows,  and  shakes  his  head,  while 
he  begins  to  lead  MONASKA  toward  the 
seat  at  the  base  of  the  pyramid.  Just  as 
they  reach  it, 

Enter — at  the  Left   Second  Entrance — throwing  up 
her  hands  in  grief,  WALOON.) 


58  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

WALOON.  Chosen  ?     Lost ! 

The  PEOPLE  chant  : 

Where  look  the  gods  ? 

Where  look  the  gods  ? 

In  glances  from  the  sky  ? 

Down  through  the  lightning's  death-dealt  blaze, 
Or  thrilling  through  the  starry  rays  ? 
Oh,  yes,  the  gods  are  all  on  high ; 
But  in  the  looks  that  on  us  gaze 
From  out  the  love-lit  human  eye, 
The  gods  are  always  nigh. 

CURTAIN. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.       .  59 


ACT  THIRD. 

SCENE  : — Same  as  in  Act  Second.      The  Gateway  at 
the  Rear  open.     Guards  beside  it. 

Enter— Left  Third  JSntr  ante— KOOTHA. " 
Enter  —  through    Gate  —  backing    at   the    Right — 

MAIDENS,  talking  loudly. 

KOOTHA.    Hello !  these  belles  of  ours  proclaim  their 
presence 


19  KOOTHA. 

If  what  the  priesthood  teach  us  be  the  truth, 
Ay,  if  the  gods  do  everything,  themselves, 
Why  should  they  smut  our  mortal  souls  to  stoke 
The  fuel  of  their  smoking  fires  on  earth? 
If  they  see  everything,  what  need  that  I 
Play  spy  here  to  Monaska  and  Waloon? — 
Trail  like  a  reptile's  tail  to  prove  them  brutes. 
Where'er  the  love  goes,  which  but  proves  them 

human  ? 
The  power  that  makes  a  man  who  would  stand 

straight 

Prostrate  and  prostitute  his  nobler  nature, 
Sneak   dodge,  crawl,  shadow  spirits  bright  as 

theirs 


60  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

As  ever  by  their  tongues.     Oh,  for  a  pipe 
To  pitch  them  to  my  tune  ;  ay,  ay,  a  pipe 
To  blow  them  up  with,  make  them  flip,  flap,  flop 
And  whir  for  me,  and  stir  the  dust  for  me, 
And  make  them  all  my  puppets.     I  will  try  it. 
Waloon  might  dodge  away  from  them  alive; 
But  from  Monaska,  be  there  none  to  check 
The  love  she  bears  him,  she  will  have  no  chance. 

May  come  from  gods,  but,  if  so,  they  have  lent 

This  part  of  their  dominion  to  a  devil. 

Perhaps  they  have — who  knows  ? — The  priesthood 

claim, 
When  earth  is  dark,  by  contrast  heaven  is 

bright — 

How  could  a  mortal  ever  guess  the  greed 
Of  gods  for  being  glorified,  unless 
What  made  mankind  had  damned  the  most  of 

them 

To  show  how  good  it  could  be  saving  others? — 
How  good  ! — Ah,  strange  how  much  would  not  be 

thought 

Were  it  not  taught !     A  plague  on  their  presump 
tion 

Who  first  began  to  teach,  and  teach  religion ! 
As  if,  forsooth,  the  heaven  would  be  all  dark 
Without  our  great  lights  of  the  temple  here 
To  thrust  their  smoking  torches  toward  it ! — 

bah!— 
Well,  well,  who  knows  ? — One  thing,  at  least, 

I  know: 

They  sin  who  shove  a  man  and  maid  together ; 
And  make  it  sin  for  them  to  touch  each  other. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  6 1 

FIRST  MAIDEN.     Oh,  he  is  lovely! 

SECOND  M.  An  ideal  god  ! 

FIRST  M.     His  form  so  graceful  1 

SECOND  M.  Yes,  and  so  well  built ! 

THIRD  M.     His  touch  so  gentle  ! 

FIRST  M.  Such  a  godlike  flush 

On  all  his  flesh  ! 
THIRD  M.  And  flowering  in  his  cheeks  ! 20 

20  FIRST  M.     He  seems  a  spirit  lured  to  gates  of  dawn 
That,  venturing  near  the  clouds  when  all  aflame, 
Had  been  snatched  up  within  their  ardent  arms 
And  borne  to  earth  with  all  their  glow  about  him. 
SECOND  M.     And  from  his  lips  that  have  not  lost  the 

tint 
Of  daybreak  yet,  there  breathe  forth  sweeter 

sighs 

Than  morning  air  brings  when  it  drinks  the  dew. 
FIRST  M.     Ay,  ay,  than  morning  air  brings  when  it 

rings 

With  all  the  choruses  of  all  the  birds. 
THIRD  M.     That  warmth  of  welcome  in  his  eyes 

too  ! 

FIRST  M.  Yes, 

And  fire  behind  them,  fire  that  when  one 

feels 
The  innermost  recesses  of  the  soul 

Begin  to 

KooTHA  (interrupting  her}. 

Burn. — Confess  they  burn. 
FIRST  M.  (to  KOOTHA). 

Who  spoke 
To  you,  uncouth  one?     Off! 


62  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

KOOTHA.     My,  my  !  how  mighty  fine  my  fancies 

are  ! 
SECOND  M.     A   woman's  fancy  may  be  near  the 

truth. 

KOOTHA.     As  near  as  fire  to  water.     Yonder  pool 
Is  truth.     The  sunbeam  it  reflects  is  fancy. 
One  water  is,  one  fire.     But,  as  you  say, 
The  flaming  of  his  eye  has  turned  the  sap 

Once  oozing  from  your  useless  lips  to 

{Hesitating. ) 

SECOND  M.  What? 

KOOTHA.     Why,  flames  turn  sap  to  soft  and  sticky 

sirup ai 


(Continuing  to  other  MAIDENS.) 

They  rout  the  gloom 

Within  the  heart  sure  as  the  morning  sun 
That  spreads  new  glory  o'er  the  darkened 

world, 

The  while  its  fire-sped  lances  tilt  the  shades 
That  fly  afar,  and  leave  our  lives  with 
heaven. 

21  Tell  now  which  sweet  lips  were  they  that  the 
god's 

Were  stuck  to  last  ? 
FIRST  M.  You  heartless  man  !     You  know 

We  love  the  god. 
KOOTHA.  Oh,  yes ! — the  god  in  man — 

The  god  it  takes  a  woman's  eye  to  see. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  63 

Which  one  of  you  was  it,  the  god  kissed  last? 
FIRST  M.     Is  knowing  that  your  business? 
THIRD  M.  Just  so! 

KOOTHA.     Oh  yes, — the  business  of  all  men. 
FIRST  M.  Why? 

KOOTHA.     Have  you  observed  which  maid  it  is  that 
proves 

The  most  attractive  to  the  most  men? 
SECOND  M.  No. 

THIRD  M.     Tell  which? 
FIRST  M.  Yes,  tell  us. 

KOOTHA,  Why,  of  course,  the  one 


SECOND  M.     And  what,  pray,  is  it  that  men  wor 
ship? 

KOOTHA.  Oh, 

The  thing  that  most  men  worship  is  themselves. 
Or,  look  they  upward,  then  it  is  the  god 
Most  like  themselves.     You  know  religion's  aim 
Is  bringing  gods  and  men  together ;  so 
To  many  men  that  creed  seems  best,  which  best 
Makes  out  how  mean  and  small  a  god  can  be. 

SECOND  M.  (saucily). 

Does  that  mean  anything? 

KOOTHA.     You  think  not? 

SECOND  M.  No. 

KOOTHA.     Not  so?  not  so? — Come  back  then  to  your 

range — 
Which  one,  etc. 


64  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

The  most  attractive  to  the  most  of  them. 
Ha,  ha! 

( Continuing,  as  they  turn  away  in  anger. ) 

You  see  that  most  men  are  such  apes 
They  never  know  which  girl  to  go  for  next, 
Until  they  see  where  some  one  else  has  gone. 

SECOND  M.  (sarcastically]. 

Aha!  you  think  that  we  wish  you,  then? 

KOOTHA.  Yes, — 

Away  from  here.     But,  frankly  now,  my  mind 
Had  stumbled  on  the  impression  that  a  maid 
Looks  on  her  lovers  as  a  Toltec  brave 
On  scalps:  she  likes  to  see  them  hanging  on 
Her  neck — at  least  in  presence  of  such  mates 
As  make  no  conquests. 

SECOND  M.  (sarcastically). 

Ah?  and  who  are  they? 

KOOTHA.     The  town  will  find  them  out,  some  day, 
I  guess. 

THIRD  M.     Not  our  fault,  then? 

KOOTHA.  Humph,  what  are  women  for? 

And  what  are  you  about  the  temple  for? 

THIRD  M.     Go  ask  Waloon. 

SECOND  M.  Yes,  yes,  go  ask  Waloon. 

KOOTHA.     Ah,  then,  there  is  a  favored  one  I  see. 

SECOND  M.     Did  I  say  that? 

KOOTHA.  You  had  no  need.     You  know 

A  friend  can  heed  the  meaning  of  our  thought 
Though  void  of  sound  or  gesture. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  65 

FIRST  M.  You  a  friend? — 

Drive  off  Waloon  then. 
KOOTHA.  I? — a  woman-driver! — 

But  were  she  more  the  dove  that  he  esteems  her, 

And  you  still  less  old  hens  than  you  appear, 

I  think  you  might  find  bills  to  settle  with  her, 

And  raise  a  cackle  that  would  make  her  fly. 
(Aside.} 

Ugh!  I  have  roughed  their  feathers  now  enough. 

Poor,  poor  Waloon ! — and  yet  her  only  safety. 
Enter— at  the  Left  Second—  WALOON. 

Ah,  there  she  is  herself. 
FIRST  M.  (noticing  WALOON). 

Oh,  here  comes  one 

That  loves  the  god.     How  nice  to  love  a  god! 
SECOND  M.     But  not  so  nice  to  pose  as  loving  one, 

And  only  love  a  man. 
FIRST  M.  You  wait  awhile. 

When  they  have  spilt  the  spirit  in  that  vessel, — 

Ay,  when  the  blood  is  drained,  it  may  not  then 

Appear  to  her  so  rare  and  rose-like. 
SECOND  M.  (to  WALOON,  sarcastically}. 

Ah, 

You  seem  surprised? 
WALOON.  I  am. 

THIRD  M.  And  grieved? 

WALOON.  And  more. 

ALL  THE  MAIDENS.     Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha! 
WALOON.  I  am  surprised  and  grieved, 


66  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

And    more    than    this — to   think    that   you   are 

women. 
KOOTHA  (aside}. 

Aha  !     Had  not  found  out  that  fact  before  ? — 
She  knows  it  now,  for  they  know  how  to  prove 
it. 

(To  the  MAIDENS.) 

Come,  come,  be  not  so  cruel.     Be  more  gentle. 
FIRST  M.     Are  cruel,  are  we?     If  she  like  it  not, 
She  need  not  strike  at  our  likes.     Did  she  deera 
It  kind  to  push  between  us  and  the  god 
The  wide-spread  drapery  of  her  greedy  arms 
As  if,  forsooth,  our  hope  were  killed,  and  she 
A  vulture  feasting  with  foul  wings  aflap? 
SECOND  M.     Nay,  more,  too,  make  us  laughed  at, 

slighted,  scorned? 
WALOON.     I   did   not   mean   it   so.     This   friend 

of  mine. 

Was  mine  before  you  chose  him  for  the  god. 
FIRST  M.     Was  yours  ? — and  now  you  mean  to  keep 

him  yours  ? — 

And  so  your  eyes  are  always  dodging  his 
To  catch  their  glances  ?     Did  you  turn  your  back, 
You  fear  he  might  forget  you  ? 
ALL  THE  MAIDENS.  Ha,  ha,  ha  I 

Enter— Left  Third  Entrance— HAIJO. 
Exit — Right  Second  Entrance — KOOTHA,  as  soon  as 

he  catches  sight  of  HAIJO. 
HAIJO  (to  the  MAIDENS). 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  67 

Why,  what  can  be  the  matter  here? 
FIRST  M.  Waloon. 

SECOND  M.     Waloon. 
THIRD  M.  Waloon. 

FIRST  M.  She  says  the  god  is  hers. 

HAIJO.     Of  course,  but  not  hers  only. 
FIRST  M.  Yes,  hers  only. 

HAIJO.     Oh,  you  mistook  her. 
THIRD  M.  No. 

SECOND  M.  Is  what  she  meant. 

First  M.     She  called  him  "  mine." 
HAIJO.  Meant  hers  ? 

FIRST  M.  Yes,  hers. 

SECOND  M.  Hers. 

THIRD  M.  Hers, 

HAIJO  (to  WALOON). 

Can  this  be  true  ? 
WALOON.     I  said  my  friend  was  mine 

Before  they  chose  him. 
HAIJO.  Ah,  but  they  did  choose  him  ; 

And  now,  according  to  the  temple's  law 

WALOON  (half  weeping). 

You  mean  he  is  not  mine,  I  know. 
HAIJO.  My  child, 

I  hoped  your  training 

WALOON.  Do  not  think  that  men 

Can  ever  change  our  nature  by  their  training. 

Nay,  clip,  abuse,  deform  it  as  you  may, 


68  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

The  weakest  bush  will  bear  its  own  flower  still, 
And  every  heart  the  love  life  made  it  for." 
SECOND  M.     She  keeps  us  from  him. 
HAIJO.  If  she  do  this  more 

The  law  will  interfere,  and  part  them  wholly. 
Enter — through  the  gate  backing  at  the  Right — 
ATTENDANTS,  PAGES,  PRIESTS,  PRIEST 
ESSES,   etc.,   singing  before  a  chariot  in 
which  Mo  N  A  SKA  is  drawn  upon  the  stage. 


22  HAIJO.     Ah,  so  !     You  think  !— Who  taught  you, 

pray,  to  think? 
WALOON.     My  mind,  sire,  and  the  gods  from  whom  it 

came. 

HAIJO.     Be  careful,  child  ;  nor  force  us  to  use  force. 
WALOON.     Ah,  sire,  sire,  when  you  come  to  deal  with 

thought, 

The  only  influence  force  can  have  upon  it 
Is  to  suppress  but  leave  it  still  possessed. 
If  error  be  in  mind,  it  seems  far  better 
To  let  it  out,  and  so  be  rid  of  it. 
HAIJO.     No  need  that  we  discuss  that  now!     You 

know 

The  temple's  law,  that  when  one  will  would  stand 
Against  the  general  good,  that  will  must  yield. 
WALOON.     I  was  not  speaking  of  my  will,  but  heart. 
HAIJO.     Well,  call  it  heart  then.     You  have  thrust 

your  love 

Between  these  maidens  and  the  god.     They  claim 
The  joy  and  profit  of  his  intercourse. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  69 

His  head  is  crowned  with  flowers,  and  he 
thumbs  a  lyre-like  musical  instrument. 
All  sing  from  the  following  : 

All  hail  the  god  !     All  hail  and  laud 

The  god  we  now  enthrone, 
Whose  realms  extend,  all  bright  and  broad 
Beyond  the  seas  and  stars  and  aught 
That  ears  have  heard,  or  eyes  have  sought, 

Or  hands  could  ever  own. 


WALOON.     They  might  have  shared  these  with  me. 

Never  yet, 
Have  I  been  left  alone  with  him. 

HAIJO.  And  who 

Could  claim  exclusive  rights  when  with  the  gods, 
Whose  eyes  see  all,  whose  arms  embrace  the 

world. 

And  if  incarnate  for  a  time  in  man, 
How  base  in  us  to  tempt  their  high,  pure  life 
Toward  our  low,  selfish  human  love  for  one! 

WALOON.     Is  that  why  we  were  watched? 

HAIJO.  Did  you  not  need 

A  hint  that  others  too  had  claims  upon  him  ? 
What  profit  is  it  though  a  god  may  dwell 
In  human  form,  if  souls,  whom  else  the  god 
Would  lure  to  love  and  draw  to  sympathy 
With  heavenly  thought  and  deed  and  light  and 

life, 
Be  kept  away  from  him  by  one  like  you  ? 

FIRST  M.     Just  what  we  ask. 

HAIJO.  What  all  the  wise  would  ask. 


70  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

All  hail  the  god  !     All  hail  the  god  \ 

Upon  the  man  we  call  ; 
But  bright  behind  the  gaze  we  greet, 
There  gleams  a  glory  yet  to  meet 
Our  souls  beholding  past  the  gloom 
Of  toil  and  trouble,  tear  and  tomb, 

The  god  beyond  it  all. 

All  hail  the  god  !    All  hail  and  laud 

The  god  we  bow  before, 
Whose  altar  fires,  while  all  are  awed, 
Are  lit  in  souls  that  flash  through  eyes 
That  light  for  heaven  itself  supplies, 

Nor  could  one  wish  for  more. 
All  hail  the  god  !     All  hail  the  god  ! 

Upon  the  man  we  call ; 
But  bright  behind  the  gaze  we  greet, 
There  gleams  a  glory  yet  to  meet 
Our  souls  beholding  past  the  gloom 
Of  toil  and  trouble,  tear  and  tomb, 

The  god  beyond  it  all. 

FIRST  M.   (to  MONASKA,  as  he  descends  from  the 

chariot,  while  all  bow  to  him). 
All  hail  the  god! 
SECOND  M.  All  hail ! 

THIRD  M.  All  hail ! 


23 1  like  not  hail-storms  but  the  gentler  sunshine. 
(Pushing  through  ihem  toward  WALOON.) 
Yet  sometimes  through  the  arch-bow  of  the 
storm 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  /I 

FIRST  M.  (noticing  that  he  pays  no  attention  to  the 
salutations  of  the  MAIDENS,  although  they  are 
making  every  effort  to  attract  his  attention). 

All  hail! 
MONASKA  (glancing  around  rather  scornfully™  and 

taking  WALOON  by  the  hand). 
You  do  not  speak  to  me. — Why  this  ? — Why  this  ? 
WALOON  (gesturing  toward  the  other  MAIDENS). 
They  chose  you.      They  have  claims  upon  you 

too. 
MONASKA.     Claims  to  my  gratitude — I  yield  them 

these. 

Claims  to  my  love  ? — Ah,  no. 
HAIJO.  And  you  will  not 

Accede  then  to  their  claims  ? 
MONASKA.  Their  sex's  claims 

Are  well  acknowledged,  as  I  think,  by  him 
Who  plights  his  whole  soul's  faith  to  one  of  them.24 
Why,  I  would  not  insult  these  women  so 
As  to  suggest  that  love  for  one  alone 
Did  not  fill  my  whole  heart  to  overflowing. 
You  seek  here  room  for  more  ? — Then  you  mis 
take. 


Life  enters  on  its  heritage  of  hope. 

24  HAIJO  (gesturing  toward  the  other  MAIDENS). 

Nay  ;  plight  your  faith  to  all  of  them. 
MONASKA.  To  all?— 


/2  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

(Addressing  the  MAIDENS,  who  seem  offended  at  his 

language}. 

And  can  it  be  that  I  had  not  revealed 
The  truth?     Forgive  me.     I  had  meant  to  do  it, 
The  time  has  come  to  end  your  doubt? — I  will. 
Here  stands  the  holy  father.     Here  stand  we. 
(Looking  toward  HAIJO  and  taking  WALOON'S  hand^ 

then  leading  her  toward  the  Right. ) 
Yes,  it  is  time  our  vows  were  made  in  public. 
What  ?     what  ? — you    hesitate  ? — you    do  ? — you 

do? 

Exeunt — Right    Second    Entrance — MONASKA     and 

WALOON. 
FIRST  M.  (to  HAIJO). 

And  would  we  better  follow  ? 
HAIJO.  Wherefore  not  ? 

The  mood  is  on  her  now  to  thrust  him  off, 
And  if  she  do  but  push  him  far  enough, 
What  should  he  do  but  tumble  then  toward  you. 
Enter — Through  gate  at  the  Right  Rear — KING  and 

ATTENDANTS. 

Exeunt — Right  Second  Entrance — MAIDENS. 
KING  (to  HAIJO). 

How  fares  it  with  the  god  ? 
HAIJO.  His  heavenly  mood 

26  KING.     The  egotist ! 

HAIJO.  Yes,  but  we  all  are  that. 

The  spirit,  we  are  told,  is  made  of  air. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  73 

Is  yet  upon  him. 

IKiNG.  He  does  not  suspect  ? 

iHAijo.     Not  he — why,  he   was   just  now  ordering 
me 

To  seal  his  vows,  and  wed  him  to  Waloon. 
IKiNG.     He  does  not  deem  it  strange  we  honor  him? 
IHAijo.     Each  to  his  own  conception  is  a  god. 

Proclaim  him  this,  you  but  concede  a  claim 

Long  felt  within.     He  knew  it  all  before. 86 
KING.     How  to  himself,  does  he  explain  the  way 

That  all  the  maidens  wait  upon  his  wishes? 
HAIJO.     He   thinks   they   deem   him   lord  of   all 
creation. 

And  so  they  do,  forsooth.  Their  bearing  proves  it. 

KING.     He  deems  Waloon? 

HAIJO.  His  only,  through  and  through. 

KING.     She  never  can  be  more  completely  his? 
HAIJO.     Impossible. 
KING.  The  time  to  pluck  a  flower 

Is  just  when  in  its  bloom. 
HAIJO.  I  think  so,  sire. 

The  hour  has  come  to  tell  him  of  his  fate. 

A  member  of  our  nearer  tribes  would  know  it. 

He  knows  it  not.  Waloon  now  shuns  him.    Look. 
(Pointing  to  Right.) 

Like  air  it  is  in  this, — will  force  its  way 
And  feel  full  right  to  enter  and  possess 
Whatever  space  a  crack  or  crevice  opens. 


74  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

And  he  must  find  excuse  for  this,  or  else 

May  turn  away  from  her,  and  seek  another. 

If  so,  he  may  not  always  keep  her  love. 

Besides,  Monaska  ought  to  know  the  truth — 2( 
KING  (looking  and  pointing  to  Right). 

I  see  him  coming  this  way  now. 
HAIJO.  With  some 

Request,  I  warrant. 
KING.  Wise  men  do  not  greet 

A  supplicant  with  too  open  hand  and  heart. 

Did  gentleness  not  midwife  his  desires, 

His  cries  would  sooner  die  for  lack  of  nursing. 

And  so  I  think  they  best  refuse  requests 

Who  best  refuse  to  hear  them.     Let  us  go. 

26  Is  wasting  time  with  her. 

KING.  Has  naught  to  do 

With  others? 
HAIJO.  No ;  and  therefore  should  be  told 

Our  laws  must  part  him  from  her. 
KING  (looking  and  pointing  to  Right}. 

You  are  right. 

27  He  never  holds  a  steady  eye  to  greet 
The  look  that  rests  on  him.     It  seems  as  if 
He  feared  that  one  might  spy  within  his  brain 
Some  secret  that  a  dodging  glance  could  shield. 
I  fear  the  secret  may  concern  Waloon. 

For  ever  when  I  lead  her  where  I  hope 
No  mortal  will  be  present  to  profane 
Vows  fit  for  only  gods  to  hear,  some  form, 
With  eyes  omniscient  as  a  very  devil's 


THE   AZTEC  GOD.  J$ 

Exeunt— Left  Second  Entrance— KING  and  HAIJO. 
Enter — Right  Third  Entrance— MONASKA. 

MONASK A.     A  generous  mind  is  never  loath  to  face 
The  object  of  its  benefaction.     No; 
Had  all  that  they  have  done  been  kindly  done, 
They  would  not  thus  have  turned  their   backs 

upon  me. 

That  Haijo  is  no  man  to  harbor  trust.27 
Just  now,  when  here  I  came,  he  too  was  here. 
We  left  him,  and  Waloon  was  deaf  to  me. 
What  drug  to  hearing  poured  he  in  her  ear 
To  deaden  nerves  hereto  so  sensitive 
To  slightest  whispers  of  my  thrilling  love 
That  hands,  voice,  lips  and  eyelids,  all  her  frame 
Went  trembling  like  a  willow  in  a  wind  ?2B 


Incarnate  in  an  earthly  messenger, 
Outspawns  its  fouling  shadows  on  the  light 
Like  night-shades  to  the  lost  who  pray  for  day. 

28  It  cannot  be  the  cause  is  in  herself. 
Or  is  it? — May  she  merely  pity  me, 
Whose  life  she  saved,  as  thousands  might  be 

saved ; 

And,  moved  by  pity  still  to  note  my  state, 
Thus  hinder  me  from  fully  asking  what, 
If  rightly  answered,  would  but  seal  my  doom?- 
No,  I  have  asked  her  fully— ay,  and  she — 
Those  eyes — ah,  naught  but  light  divine  as 

love's 
Could  so  illumine,  so  transfigure  her  ! 


/6  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Enter — Left  Second  Entrance — HAIJO. 

HAIJO.     Alone,  Monaska  ? 

MONASKA.  Yes. 

HAIJO.  Alone  ?     Alone  ? — 

With  all  those  maidens  praying  for  your  presence  ? 

MONASKA.     I  dodged  behind  a  tree,  then,  when  they 

left, 
Came  here. 

HAIJO.  A  valiant  warrior ! 

MONASKA.  Yes — with  men. 

HAIJO.     With  women  ? 

MONASKA.  He  with  her  I  think  is  valiant 

Who  waives  what  would  be  force. 

HAIJO.  And  runs  away  ? 

MONASKA.     Why,  yes,  if  elsewise   he   might  be  un 
gentle. 

HAIJO.     Your  waste  of  time  does  not  yet  weigh 

upon  you." 
You  craved  for  love. 

MONASKA.  Ay,  and  you  promised  it. 

HAIJO.     You  have  it. 

29  MONASKA.     My  what? 

HAIJO.  You  chose  a  life  not  long,  but  brilliant. 

MONASKA.     If  so 

HAIJO.  Is  brilliant  now,  but  will  be  brief. 

MONASKA.     Be  brief? 

HAIJO.  Enough,  I  hope,  to  make  you  ply 

Your  opportunities. 

MONASKA.  And  what  are  they? 

HAIJO.     You  craved  for  love,  etc. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  77 

MONASKA.  Have  it  ? — No,  I  have  it  not. 

HAIJO.     Your  heart  must  be  a  very  glutton  then. 

With  all  these  maids 

MONASKA.  And  what  are  they— to  love  ? — 

HAIJO.     They  chose  you,  yet  you  turn  your  back 

upon  them.30 

MONASKA.     Chose  me,  and  not  I  them. 
HAIJO.  You  courted  them. 

MONASKA.     Oh,  no. 

HAIJO.     You   sighed,  you   smiled,    you   sued,    and 
wooed. 

MONASKA.     You  overstate 

HAIJO.  What  made  you  leave  Waloon  ? 

MONASKA.     I  leave  her? 

HAIJO.  You. — When,  just  before  the  dance, 

She  talked  with  you  aside,  and  begged  you  not. 

Were  you  so  wholly  satisfied  with  her, 

That  was  the  time  to  show  it. 
MONASKA.  But — the  king — 

His  proclamation,  and  the  highest  honor 


30  MONASKA.    But  you  know  why:  I  turn  my  back  on  lust 

That  I  may  turn  my  face  to  love. 
HAIJO.  Poor  fool, 

But  one  life  can  you  live,  and  yet  you  lose  it ! 
MONASKA.     But  one  love  can  I  keep,  and  I  shall 

keep  it. 

HAIJO.     Too  bad  you  had  not  thought  of  that  before. 
MONASKA.     Before? 
HAIJO.  Ay,  ay,  before  the  maidens  chose  you. 


78  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

HAIJO.     You  have  it  now.     You  gained  it  leaving 
her. 

MONASKA.     I  left  her  for  a  moment  only. 

HAIJO.  So. 

Great  fires  are  kindled  in  a  moment  only 
Where  hearts  are  tinder,  and  a  glance  a  spark.31 

MONASKA.     But  how  could  I  have  known  the  choice 
meant  this  ? 

HAIJO.     Who   knows   the  fruitage  of  the  seed  he 

plants  ? — 
Like  seed,  like  fruit. 

MONASKA.  The  seed  was  very  small. 

HAIJO.     The  fruitage  large  ? — Yet  both  were  one  in 
kind. 

MONASKA.     Nay,  tho'  my  transient  look  went  wrong, 

my  feet 

Have  followed  righteousness.     Ah,  sire,  you  know 
The  only  harvests  heaven  can  ever  find 
Unfold  from  germs  dropped  near  enough  to  hell 
To  fear  its  heat  and  grow  away  from  it. — 
Why  was  it  wrong  to  seek  the  highest  honor  ? 
How  could  one  know  it  could  not  come  with  her  ? 

HAIJO.  You  think  that  one  small  man's  experience 
Embraces  in  its  clasp  the  whole  broad  earth  ? — 
Nay,  it  is  finite.  Every  path  has  limits. 

81  Why  there 

MONASKA.  Aha,  those  dusky  robes  of  priests 

Astride  the  broken  beam  of  every  ray 
That  bridged  my  prison's  gloom  have  not  been  ghosts 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  79 

Climb  up  to  mountain-tops,  you  turn  away 

From  flower  and  verdure,  spring  and  warmth, 
to  dwell 

With  rock  and  weariness  and  thirst  and  chill. 
iMoNASKA.     Oh,  this  is  preaching !     And  you  prom 
ised  me 

A  brilliant  life 

HAIJO.  Life  brilliant  far  beyond 

Your  highest  hope. 
MONASKA.  Nay,  nay,  you  promised  love. 

HAIJO.     The   choicest   maidens   of   the   realm  are 

yours. 

MONASKA.     But  not  Waloon  ! 
HAIJO.  Is  his  experience  then 

So  strangely  brilliant  who  is  loved,  forsooth, 

By  one  maid  only  ? 
MONASKA.  It  may  not  be  brilliant, 

But  like  a  star  in  heaven  it  fills  with  light 

One  point — that  where  the  gods  have  placed  it. 
HAIJO.  You — 

Why,  you  are  a  sun  round  which  mere  stars  revolve. 

Your  dignity  has  larger,  broader  range 

Than  gains  fit  homage  from  the  love  of  one; — 

Which,  if  you  have  not  learned,  you  should  be 

taught. 
MONASKA.     And  yield  Waloon? 

To  haunt  my  love  alone?     They  have  been  fiends 
To  turn  it  to  a  curse. 
HAIJO.  Blame  your  own  choice. 


80  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

HAIJO.  Waloon — till  you  can  yield 

Your  love  to  others. 

Exit— Left  Third  Entrance— HAIJO. 
MONASKA.  What?     When  I  have  let 

Their  lustful  kisses  drain  the  dew  of  youth, 
Give  her  the  parched  and  lifeless  remnant? — No. 
Go  take  that  wolf-skin  from  the  snarling  hounds 
When  all  the  blood  has  been  sucked  out  of  it, 
And  flesh  gnawed  off,  and  fling  it,  cold  and  limp, 
Out  to  another  wolf  panting  for  a  mate; 
But  ask  me  not  to  fling  love's  foul  cold  carcass 
Out  to  her  arms  to  whom  I  owe  my  life. — 
Oh,  cursed  fate! 

Enter — Left  Second  Entrance — WAPELLA  with  a 
WOMAN. 

Wapella,  you  here?     Oh 
Wapella,  you  were  right! — And  who  is  this? 
{Gazing  at  the  WOMAN  at  WAPELLA' s  side.) 
WAPELLA.     My  wife. 
MONASKA.     Your   wife?  —  Beware  —  you    cannot 

keep  her. 
WAPELLA.     Oh,   no  one  cares  what  I   do   here! 

Not  I, 

You,  you,  you  know,  have  won  the  highest  honor. 
MONASKA.     Yes — won  the  highest  honor.     I,  for 
sooth, 

I  have,  Wapella.     Ah,  why  are  the  scales 
That  measure  what  our  world  is  worth  so  poisec 
Betwixt  the  outward  and  the  inward  life 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  8l 

That  what  lifts  up  the  one  must  lower  the  other  ? 
Why,  when  we  reach  the  highest  earthly  place 
Must  this  be  balanced  by  the  spirit's  fall  ? 
Enter — Right  Second  Entrance — other  MAIDENS  and 

WALOON,  who  is  back  of  them. 
(MONASKA  continues — -pointing  to  WALOON.) 
Wapella,  there  is  heaven ;  and  all  the  world, 
A  world  that  will  the  more  pollute  my  soul, 
The  more  I  try  to  cross  it,  lies  between 
Myself  and  it,  and  keeps  me  here  in  hell. 

CURTAIN. 


82  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


ACT  FOURTH. 

SCENE  FIRST  : — Interior  of  a  room  or  hut  hung  with 
curtains,  evidently  used  as  a  prison  for  MONASKA. 
Entrance  at  the  Left  Front.  Curtain  rising  dis 
closes  MONASKA  dressed  in  gorgeous  apparel.  He 
has  on  a  garlanded  head-dress  and  in  his  hand  a 
large  lyre-like  musical  instrument.  KOOTHA,  who 
apparently  has  just  finished  robing  him,  stand 
regarding  him.™ 

Enter— from  the  Left — HAIJO. 

HAIJO  (to  MONASKA). 
Good  day. 

HAIJO  (motions  to  KOOTHA  to  retire.) 
Exit— Left—  KOOTHA. 

MONASKA.  I  have  my  doubts  if  it  be  good 

Each  time  you  come  to  me  and  call  it  so, 
Your  coming  makes  me  more  your  prisoner. 

88  KOOTHA.     You  seem  a  rising  sun.     Each  time  the 

crowd 

Renew  their  gaze  on  you,  your  splendor  grows. 
MONASKA.     And  when,  at  last,  they  tone  me  to  a 

pitch 
That  no  new  height  of  splendor  can  transcend, 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  83 

HAIJO.     Of  course,  if  you  will  yield  not  to   our 
ways 

MONASKA.     If  I  gulp  not  the  feast  you  gorge  me  on, 
And  bury  all  my  soul  beneath  the  spoils 
Of  foul  and  glutton  appetite — why  then 
I  will  not  prove  the  bloated  beast  you  wish. 

HAIJO.     We  hope  that  you  will  prove  a  god. 

MONASKA.  What  forms 

Your  test  of  godhood? 

HAIJO.  What  is  it  shall  bring 

The  spirit  of  the  fair-god  back  to  earth, 
When  once  again  his  white-winged  vessels  leave 
Their  land  of  ease,  and  brave  the  sea  for  us? 

MONASKA.     I  know  not — What? 

HAIJO.  Self-sacrifice. 

MONASKA.  Yes,  yes, 

I  see — perhaps  I  wronged  you.     You  may  light 
These  fires  of  fierce  temptation  round  me  but 
To  test  my  metal. — Have  I  triumphed  then? 

HAIJO.     Triumphed?     O'er  what? — I  spoke  of  sac 
rifice. 

MONASKA.     And    I   have  sacrificed  low  love   for 
higher. 

HAIJO.     You  call  that  sacrifice? 

To  get  more  halo,  will  they  burn  me  up? 
KOOTHA.     Oh,  no,  not  that! 
MONASKA.  How  long  now  will  it  be 

Before  this  play  will  climax? 
KOOTHA  (looking  towards  Left).     Some  one  comes. 


84  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA.  What  ?     Is  it  not  ? — 

To  give  up  what  is  earthly  for  the  heavenly  ? — 
Turn  from  the  serpent  coiled  within  the  loins 
To  follow  in  the  flight  of  that  fair  dove 
Whose  wings  are  fluttering  within  the  heart  ? 

HAIJO.     To  turn  from  those  you  loathe  to  those  you 

like  ?— 
I  did  not  speak  of  that. 

MONASKA.  Ah,  not  of  that  ? 

Of  what? 

HAIJO.         Self-sacrifice. 

MONASKA.  That  sacrifice 

Is  due  to  self. 

HAIJO.  And  if  it  be  ? 


33  HAIJO.  May  be,  too, 

That  what  you  speak  of,  is  too  fine  for  some 
To  care  to  handle. 

MONASKA.  Care  not  for  the  spirit? — 

What  are  your  gods  ? 

HAIJO.  The  sovereigns  of  our  temple. 

MONASKA.     The  outward  temple  only,  not  the  in 
ward? 

HAIJO.    You  deem  the  sovereigns  of  the  two  may 
differ? 

MONASKA.     I  do.     I  know  of  priests  who  judge  of 


Like  altars  by  their  gilding,  to  whose  greed 
One  god  in  hand  is  worth  a  score  in  heaven. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  85 

MONASKA.  Why,  sire, 

You  think  to  force  my  fate  ;  and  if  you  do, 
There  may  be  sacrifice,  but  not  by  self. 

HAIJO.     That  does  not  matter. 

MONASKA.  Does  not? — in  a  spirit — 

You  would  make  godlike? 

HAIJO.  Should  it?     Why? 

MONASKA.  Because, 

Each  time  you  try  to  mould  a  spirit's  life 
With  fingers  grappling  from  the  fist  of  force, 
You  clutch  but  at  the  air,  at  what  is  far 
Too  fine  for  force  to  handle.88 

HAIJO.                                           May  be,  so. 
And  you  will  not  be  ruled 


For  every  time  they  kneel  to  touch  their  puppet, 
It  shakes  to  sprinkle  gold-dust  on  them. 
HAIJO.  Hold ! 

Where  were  you  reared  to  such  impiety  ? 
MONASKA.     Where  sun,  moon,  stars  rained  from  the 

blue  above 
And  flowers  were  fountained  through  the  green 

below, 
Where  lights  we  knew  not  what,  but  they  were 

heaven's, 
Looked  down  on  eyes  that  looked  up  from  the 

earth, 

And  men,  whatever  might  impel  their  souls, 
Were  guided  onward  by  a  goal  to  mate  it. 


86  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA.  By  what  you  urge? — 

I  cannot. 

HAIJO.         Yet  they  chose  you  as  their  god. 

MONASKA.     Then  it  befits  me  like  a  god  to  live. 
Oh,  sire  !  those  are  most  worth  our  help  on  earth 
Whose  eyes  look  up,  and   he   who    stands  above 
them, 


HAIJO.     Ay,  and  by  priests  and  prophets. — Tell  the 
truth. 

MONASKA.     Yes,  there  were  those  who  dreamed,  and 

those  who  deemed 

In  darkness  they  saw  forms  that  had  been  earth's, 
And  heard  their  words,  and  they  believed  it  true 
That  there  was  life  behind  the  sights  we  see. 
But  those  who  stood  the  highest  of  the  high, 
And  knew  our  poet-king  were  taught  to  look 
Upon  a  God  beyond  the  reach  of  men. 

HAIJO.     Beyond  their  reach,  what  were  he  worth! 

Young  man, 
You  have  your  priests,  your  temples,  ay,  we  know 

it, 
And  have  but  one  religion. 

MONASKA.  And  we  speak 

One  language  too,  but  differ  in  the  accent. 
The  language  gives  the  passwords  of  the  race, 
The  accent  keys  the  culture  of  the  home, 
And  some  were  welcome  at  the  royal  home. 

HAIJO.     And  there  were  taught  religion  ? 

MONASKA.  There  we  heard 

The  poems  of  our  prince  ;  and  prized  them  not 
Because  his  tongue  controlled  us,  but  his  truth. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  87 

Would  he  fulfill  their  soul's  ideal,  must  show 
A  life  worth  while  their  looking  up  to  see. 

HAIJO.     Well,  then,  prepare  to  die. 

MONASKA.  To  die  ? 

HAIJO.  To-day. 

MONASKA.     Ye  gods !     I  had  not  thought  of  that— 
so  soon  ? 


HAIJO  (contemptuously). 

Religion  of  a  poet  !  —  upside  down 

And  inside  out,  to  fit  each  freak  of  fancy  ! 

MONASKA.     Religion  of  a  man,  sire.     You  would  say 
One  cannot  see  the  spirit  save  through  forms. 
Yet  who  can  see  through  forms,  except  as  these 
Obscure  the  spirit?     Be  it  so,  why,  then 
Our  king  was  right  to  bid  us  use  our  eyes, 
Yet  not  believe  that  what  we  saw  was  all. 
And  what  we  cannot  see,  yet  feel  exists, 
We  cannot  think  of,  save  as  we  imagine. 
And  so  the  phase  that  best  reports  the  spirit 
Is  that  of  poetry,  —  so  said  our  king. 

RAIJO  (sarcastically). 

His  was  a  vague  religion  ! 

MONASKA.  Not  so  vague 

As  that  religion  is  whose  forms  befriend 
A  life  to  which  all  laws  within  the  soul 
Are  foes.     Our  king  with  his  one  queen  would 

never 

Have  sanctioned,  much  less  led  himself,  a  life 
Like  that.     Oh,  something  surely  must  be  wrong 
When  that  which  rules  without  rules  not  within. 

HAIJO.     And  you  will  not  be  ruled,  —  etc. 


UNIVERSITY;) 


88  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

So  soon  ? — why,  you  had  promised  I  should  have 
My  fill  of  love  ! 

Exit — Left — HAIJO,  paying  no   heed    to  his   words. 
MONASKA,  noticing  this,  goes  on. 

What  fool  is  more  a  fool — 
What  foe  is  falser — than  one  false  to  self? — 
And  false,  forsooth,  because  of  flattery — 
Nor  of  the  soul — but  of  this  outward  frame, 
Frame  destined  for  a  shattered  wreck  to-day. 
No,  no  ! — not  that — it  cannot  be  !     No,  no  ; 
It  is  against  all  nature  I  should  die. 
What  have  I  lived  for,  if  I  am  to  die  ? 
How   sinks   my   heart   within    me  !     Frail,    faint 

heart ! 

And  it  had  so  much  life  !     I  thought  its  thrills 
The  rilling  of  a  fount  whose  brook  should  flow 
Out  to  a  sea  of  life,  as  wide  as  earth, 
And  upward  to  a  golden  clouded  heaven. 
Why,  all  my  moods — they  banner  spring-time  yet, 
The  buds  but  just  unfolding,  scarce   a  flutter 
To  balm  the  breeze  with  their  sweet  promises  ! 
Must  all  be  now  cut  off? — uprooted  ? — what? 
The  prickliest  cactus  clutches,  at  the  last, 
The  flower  toward  which  it  grows  ;  and  shall  these 

nerves, 

All  tender  to  the  touch  of  life,  so  live 
Themselves,  so  hungry  to  be  fed,  yet  void 
Of  all  with  which  hope  pledged  them  to  be  filled- 
Shall  they  be  cheated  out  of  this  they  craved  ? 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  89 

Are  all  the  visions  of  the  fancy  frauds 
That  fool  our  faith,  anticipating  joy 
That  never  comes?     Is  that  mysterious  power 
That  prompts  our  lives  to  be,  and  pushes  on 
Toward  what  it  promised  them,  so  vilely  weak 
That,  like  a  knave  who  fears  to  be  outwitted, 
It  needs  must  lash  and  lure  us  with  a  lie? — 
Yet  now — O  heaven!     I  will  not  so  believe  it. 
I  cannot;  no. — 

Enter — Left — KOOTHA. 

Here  comes  one  who  will  tell  me. 
KOOTHA  (to  MONASKA,  who  looks  at  him  sharply). 

Well,  sire? 

MONASKA.     That  priest  has  left  me. 

KOOTHA.  Yes,  I  see. 

MONASKA.     He  says  I  am  to  die. 

KOOTHA.  Most  mortals  do. 

MONASKA.     He  says  to-day. 

KOOTHA.  Bad  jobs  are  at  their  best 

When  nearest  ended. 

MONASKA  (in  surprise).         You! — indifferent? 

KOOTHA.     Same  thing — am  old. 

MONASKA.  And  so  are  hard? 

KOOTHA  No,  soft; 

Have   learned   to  yield  to  what  could   not   be 

blocked 

By  my  opposing  it.     I  know  no  rose 
That  blooms  but  fades. 

MONASKA.  Yet  men 


90  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

KOOTHA.  Oh,  yes,  yes,  men 

Are  different,  I  know.     I  know,  for  men 
Not  ottJy  fade  but  worse — 
MONASKA  (distressed). 

Why  picture  it? 
KOOTHA  (intentionally  harsti}?* 

I  own  no  pigment  dull  or  vile  enough. 
MONASKA.     You  deem  these  foul  drafts  bitters  fit 

to  whet. 

An  appetite  for  death  ?     Man,  I  am  young. 
KOOTHA.     Be  thankful,  then,  that  you  have  not 

grown  old, 

Worn  out,  diseased  and  full  of  pain. 
MONASKA.  To  think 


34  I  own  no  pigment  dull  enough. — You  know 
What  human  life  is  ? — all  a  fight  of  soul 
To  keep  the  body  sweet, — a  fight  a  bird 
Or  beast  knows  nothing  of.    A  babe  when 

born 

Is  dipped  in  water ;  every  following  day 
Is  dipped  again.     If  not,  ere  long  will  come 
Disease  and  death,  and,  when  a  mortal  dies, 
His  fellows  all  thank  heaven  that  they  have 

hands 

To  keep  the  fight  up  for  him  ;  for,  if  not, 
Be  he  not  burned  or  buried  in  a  jiffy, 
The  air  of  heaven  may  find  the  spirit  sweet, 
But  not  the  air  of  earth — pugh ! — well  he  left 

it! 
MONASKA.     You  judge  of  men  by  their  outsides. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  91 

That  all  this  glowing  blood  within  these  veins 

Should  be  spilled  out,  before  my  soul  has  drunk 

The  pleasure  that  is  in  them. 
'KooTHA.  When  thus  drunk, 

The  veins  will  be  exhausted,  have  no  stock 

To  treat  the  sense  with  longer;  and  the  soul, 

Intoxicated  with  the  joys  of  earth, 

Will  be  too  heavy  weighed  to  rise  above  them.38 
MONASKA.     Nay  ;  not  of  low  desires  I  spoke.     I 
meant 

That  I  had  never  tasted  love. 
KOOTHA.  Then  you 

Have  never  found  it  bitter. 
MONASKA.  Cynic ! 

KOOTHA.  Oh,  no ! 

Some  of  our  people  here  so  love  a  man 
They  feast  upon  him.     Who,  pray,  could  know 

more 
Of  his  insides?    They  say — their  sense  is 

trained — 

That  nothing  ever  tastes  as  much  like  man 
As  what,  say,  has  like  tastes, — a  boar. 
MONASKA.  Enough! — 

35  MONASKA.    But  I 

KOOTHA.  The  worst  of  prisoners  is  a  soul 

Severed  from  its  own  realm  by  appetite 
That  lets  naught  pass  that  pays  no  toll  to  greed. 
Mere  soulless  brutes  are  better  than  are  men 
With  souls  that  love  but  that  which  they  can  lust  for. 


92  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

KOOTHA.  One 

Must  be  what  earth  has  made  him. 
MONASKA.  Let  me  die 

Before  I  learn  a  lesson  sad  as  that ! 
KOOTHA.     Wise  prayer !     Ay  it  is  mercy  lets  us  die 

Before  our  souls  decay — makes  life  more  sweet 

To  those  who  have  to  live  it  with  us  here. 
MONASKA.     No,  no!     You  do  not  understand  — 

Waloon 

KOOTHA.     I  understand  the  world.     It  frames  her 
soul, 

And  yours,  and  souls  in  this  world  fit  their  frames. 
MONASKA.     You  deem  my  disposition  too  despotic 

To  be  appeased  by  service  of  her  love? 

Yet  not  myself  I  think  of,  but  of  her. 
KOOTHA.  Think  of  her  as  she  is  then. 
MONASKA.  How  is  that? 

KOOTHA.     A  woman. 

MONASKA.  What,  pray,  is  a  woman? 

KOOTHA.  What 

Is  made  to  woo  a  man. 
MONASKA.                        What  man? 
KOOTHA.  What  man? 

Why,  any  man. 

MONASKA.  You  villain,  to  say  that! 

KOOTHA.     Humph!     I  have  seen  the  world,  and 
tell  you  truth. 

You  deem  the  truth  is  villainy? — it  is — 

The  truth  about  this  world. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  93 

MONASKA.  You  think  Waloon 

K.OOTHA.     Will    mourn  you?— Yes,  a  while;   but 

woes  like  hers 

Are  troubles  which  a  kindly  Providence 
Will  always  raise  up  some  man  who  can  cure. 

MONASKA.     Waloon— I   must   believe   she   knows 

this  now — 

Has  made  a  solemn  vow,  if  aught  should  come 
To  me,  to  serve  as  priestess  in  the  temple. 

KOOTHA.  Oh  yes;  oh  yes;  with  you  to  be  her  god. 

MONASKA.     Sad,  lonely  servitude  I 

KOOTHA.  Oh,  no. 

MONASKA.  With  none 

To  love  ? 

KOOTHA.     But  there  are  others  there. 

MONASKA.  What  for  ? 

KOOTHA.     To  represent  the  god. 

MONASKA.  You  mean 

KOOTHA.                                                       Oh,  no!— 
No,  not  this  week,  nor  month,  not  that,  not  that. 
But  when  the  time  comes — when  this  lonely  soul 
Desires  content,  and  cannot  leave  the  place 
Without  dishonoring  herself  and  us 

MONASKA.    Your    evil    mood    is    master  of  your 
thought 

KOOTHA.     Say,  makes  my  conscience  conscious  that 

no  law 

Can  legislate  the  devil  out  of  life. 
You  block  a  maiden  of  one  lover 


94  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA.  Knave ! 

KOOTHA.     Nay,  some  would  call  him  both  a  knave 

and  brute — 
Who  failed  to  make  her  seem  less  lonely. 

MONASKA  (angrily).  The  king 

Would  not  permit  this. 

KOOTHA.  No  ? 

MONASKA.  He  would  ? 

KOOTHA.  You  see — 

The  king — he  chiefly  represents  the  god. 

MONASKA.     What  ? — I  have  heard   he   loves  her. — 

Can  this  be 

A  plot  of  his  to  get  her,  will  or  nill  ? 
You  mean  to  say 

KOOTHA.  I  do  not  need  to  say  it; 

I  think  a  man  might,  if  he  had  some  sense, 
Put  two  and  two  together. — Times  will  come 
When  they  two  will  be  two  together.     Humph! 
One  ought  to  guess  the  rest. 

MONASKA.  And  ought  to  swear 

To  level  every  wall  that  can  shut  out 
The  sun  that  brings  to  light  man's  every  act — 
The  only  weapon  that  can  ward  off  ill 
From  souls  allured  to  wrong  through  secrecy. — 
And  you — what  cause  had  you  to  hint  this  to  me  ? 

KOOTHA.     You  thought  Waloon  would  suffer 

36  KOOTHA.     Dishonored. 

MONASKA.         Why,  you  seem  a  priest? 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  95 

MONASKA.  So  she  will 

A  thousand  deaths  were  better  for  her. 
KOOTHA.  Whose  ?-~ 

{Insinuatingly. ) 
You  mean  the  king's? 
MONASKA  {suddenly  changing  his  manner}. 

Are  you  a  native  here? 
KOOTHA.     Not  I. 

MONASKA.  Of  what  tribe  then? 

KOOTHA.  Sh — sh— of  yours. 

MONASKA.     Mine?  mine? 

KOOTHA.  I  said  it — captured  years  ago. 

MONASKA.     And  here?38 
KOOTHA.  Enslaved. 

MONASKA.  You  wish  me  ? — 

KOOTHA.  You  alone, 

Of  all  the  captives  we  have  ever  taken, 
When  tempted,  have  not  let  them  drain  your  veins 
Of  healthful  soul-strength,  to  inject  therein, 
In  place  of  it,  their  foul  sense-fevering  virus. 
MONASKA.     And  you  would  save  me? 
KOOTHA.  Do  you  think  a  man 

Can  save  a  god? — It  is  the  god  saves  men. 
You  see  this  point  here? 

{Pointing  to  a  sharp  protuberance  on  one  end 
of  the  musical  instrument  carried  by 
MONASKA.  MONASKA  examines  it.) 

KOOTHA.  I  am  what  priests  would  be,  did  they  believe 
In  being  what  they  seem,— a  man  yet  not  a  man. 


96  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

I  have  known  a  man 
Who  had  no  weapon 

M  ox  ASK  A.  Yes,  I  see  the  point! 

KOOTHA.     A  time  will  come  when  you  stand  near 

the  king. 

If  then  you  choose  to  give  a  benediction, 
The  people's  eyes  will  all  be  looking  downward; 
And  if  there  be  confusion,  and  some  gate 
About  the  pyramid  be  open,  then 
Quick  feet  might  pass  it,  ere  they  could  be  tript. 

MONASKA.     When  is  it  that  I  stand  so  near  the 
king? 

KOOTHA.  Just  when  he  bids  you  give  this  lyre  to  him. 

MONASKA.     And  I  will  give   it ! — What  comes  just 
before  ? 

KOOTHA.     Our  adoration. 

MONASKA.  What  just  after  ? 

KOOTHA.  You 

Begin  to  mount  the  pyramid.     Meanwhile, 
Keep  dropping  off  you,  one  by  one,  your  robes. 
The  king  takes  first  this  lyre,  and  Haijo  next 
Your  head-dress ;  then,  the  other  priests  the  rest 

MONASKA.     Till  everything  be  taken  from  me  ? 

KOOTHA.  Yes. 

MONASKA.     Before  the  people  ? — an  indignity  ! 

KOOTHA  (sarcastically). 

They  will  have  done  your  spirit  so  much  honor, 
It  will  be  too  much  honored  for  this  body. 

MONASKA.     You  mean  the  body  will  be  too  dis 
honored 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  97 

For  any  spirit  to  remain  in  it. 

KOOTHA.     Oh,   not   dishonored    ere   the   godship 
leaves. — 

Then  what  does  flesh  devoid  of  god  deserve? 
MONASKA.     Damnation,  if  devoid  of  godship  mean 

Devoid  of  spirit  to  defend  the  flesh. — 

And  so  they  kill  me? 

KOOTHA.  In  the  end  they  do. 

MONASKA.     They  mutilate  me  first? 
KOOTHA.  That  lasts  not  long.— 

You  are  to  see  Waloon  now. 
MONASKA.  See  Waloon? 

How  cruel  both  to  her  and  me! 
KOOTHA.  Oh,  then, 

If  you  wish  not 

MONASKA.  Nay,  but  I  do — and  you — 

You  are  to  watch  us,  as  has  been  your  wont? 
KOOTHA.     Why — ? 
MONASKA.         It  will  be  my  final  word  with  her. — 

Were  you  to  be  a  god,  what  would  you  give 

To  speak  that  word  and  not  be  overhead? 
KOOTHA?     Eternal  benediction. 
MONASKA  So  will  I. 

Or  god  or  spirit,  here  I  pledge  you  it. 
KOOTHA.     I  shall  not  overhear. 

Exit — Left — KOOTHA  . 
MONASKA  {soliloquizing).  One  hope  is  left. 

I  have  the  lyre — 
7 


98  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

{Making  motion  of  using  lyre  as  a  weapon.} 

Can  give  it  to  the  king.37 
(Looking  toward  the  Left.) 
But  ah, — she  comes.     I  must  not  think  of  self, 
But  of  this  better  self.     If  any  soul 
Had  ever  need  yet  to  believe  in  God 
Through  a  belief  in  man,  that  soul  is  hers. 
Enter — Left — WALOON  and  KOOTHA,  who  bows  to 

MONASKA. 

Exit — Left — KOOTHA. 
WALOON.     Monaska. 
MONASKA.  Here  I  am,  Waloon. 

WALOON.  You  know 

The  truth  ? 

MONASKA.      I  do.     Oh,  love,  but  it  is  hard. 
You  knew  it  all  these  days? 

37  Though  I  may  die,  I  need  not  leave  Waloon 
To  her  worst  enemy, — that  spider-soul 
Bating  his  web  of  lust  with  my  pure  love, 
And,  for  his  foul  embrace,  entrapping  thus 
The  vainly  fluttering  wings  of  her  fair  spirit. 

38  MONASKA.   A  fool  that  I  have  been.    But  who  could 

think 

Humanity  could  be  so  base? 
WALOON.  Be  what? 

MONASKA.     So  base,  so  devilish. 

WALOON.  Who  has  been  this?  when? 

MONASKA.     Who?  when?— Why,  everybody.— You 
must  know? — 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  99 

WALOON.  I  feared — 

MONASKA.  It  was 

For  this  I  deemed  you  jealous  of  me  ? 

WALOON.  Yes. 

MONASKA.    A  fool  that  I  have  been.38    I,  all  my  life, 
Have  served  a  spirit  larger  than  myself. 
These  limbs  but  fit  it  on  a  single  side, 
Their  utmost  only  half  what  it  would  have. 
And  now,  athrill  with  spirit-arms  that  stretch 
Up    toward    the   heavens    and    onward    toward 

heaven's  love, 

My  balanced  being  had  embraced  in  you 
That  other  side.     We  are  not  two,  but  one. 
And — think — to  part  two  factors  of  one  life 
Is  murder — not  of  body  but  of  spirit. 

WALOON.     Monaska  —  what? — Monaska,  are  you 
mad? 

The  king? — this  Haijo? 

WALOON.  No,  what  is  it  then? 

MONASKA.     They  are  to  kill  me  ;  and  you  had  not 

heard? 

WALOON.     But  you  are  god ! 
MONASKA.  What,  what? — you  say  this?  you? 

And  you  believe  it  right  that  I  should  die? 

WALOON  (in  surprise  and  reproacK). 

Monaska ! 
MONASKA.         Have  I  no  friends  left?  not  one? — 

Not  even  you? — you  wish  to  kill  me  too? 

WALOON.     No,  no,  not  that 

MONASKA.  I,  all  my  life,  Waloon,  etc. 


100  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

MONASKA.     Not  yet,  not  quite. 

WALOON.  But  think — you  are  the  god.89 

MONASKA.     To  hear  you  say  so,  I  could  think  it 

too. 
Thank  heaven,   thank  heaven!      But  if  I  leave 

you  here, 

WALOON.     I  still  will  love  you — serve  you  in  the 

temple. 

MONASKA.     Nay — say  not  that! 
WALOON.  I  must  though — if  I  love  you, 

MONASKA.     You  must? — and  why? 
WALOON.  Because  their  souls  are  cursed 

Who  loved  the  god,  and  serve  not  in  the  temple. 
MONASKA.     Is  that  what  they  have  taught  you? 
WALOON.  Yes. 

MONASKA.  A  part 

Of  that  instruction  which  they  call  divine? 

(WALOON  nods,  and  MONASKA  talks  aside .) 
I  thought  so ! — and  they  say  they  make  me  god. 
No,   no;    they   make   me   devil! — Would   they 

could ! 

What  happy  hours  in  hell  would  heat  the  hate 
My  heart  could  hurl  at  what  they  call  divine ! 

89  MONASKA.     Do  you  believe  this? 

WALOON.  I? — why  should  I  not? 

MONASKA.     Have  always  heard  it,  eh? — and  most 

of  us 

Commune  with  reason  through  our  memory } 
And  not  the  work  of  our  own  minds  we  heed, 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  IOI 

WALOON.     What  said  you? 

MONASKA.     Said  I?  said  I? — It  was  naught 

But  practicing  to  be  a  god.     You  know 

A  coming  glory  casts  a  glow  before  it. 

Those  who  shall  be  the  lords  of  fowldom  gobble 

A  gobble  at  times  before  their  gills  are  grown. 
WALOON.     You  seemed  in  anger. 
MONASKA.  So  are  gods  at  times. — 

They  think  of  men. 
WALOON.  Of  women  too? 

MONASKA  (changing  his  tone).     Oh  yes; 

Of  women : — they  are  said  to  be  in  bliss. 

Waloon,  you  love  me? 
WALOON.  Yes. 

MONASKA.  Will  always  love  me? 

WALOON.     I  will. 
MONASKA.  Then  if  a  devil  come  to  you, 

In  human  shape,  and  say  he  represents  me, 

Swear   you   will   not    believe    him — though   the 

king! 
WALOON  {startled}. 

What  can  you  mean? 
MONASKA.  Believe  him,  I  will  damn  you  — 

Not  only  I — but  all  the  gods  there  with  me. 

But  rote-repeated  phrases  framed  by  others. — 

Do  you  believe  me  then  to  be  a  god  ? 
WALOON.     You  must  be. 

MONASKA.  Your  god,  yours,  Waloon  ? 

WALOON.  My  god. 


102  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

(WALOON   draws  back  in  fear.     MONASKA'S  tone 

changes.} 

Waloon,  are  you  afraid  of  me,  Waloon? 
WALOON  (hesitatingly]. 

Why — no — 

MONASKA.  I  have  a  last  request  to  make. 

I  have  to  die  in  public, — is  that  so? 

(WALOON  bows  in  affirmation.} 
They  strip  and  mutilate  me  first? 
WALOON.  You  mean 

When — when  they  tear  your  heart  out? 
MONASKA  (in  horror]. 

Tear? — what,  what? — 

While  I  am  living,  feeling,  tear  my  heart  out? 
WALOON.     Oh,  do  not  speak   of   it!     It — let   me 
rest. 

{Almost  swooning,  and  seating  herself. ) 
MONASKA.      You    faint! — Oh,    horror! — and    for 

me,  Waloon? 

(Bending  over  her,  and  talking  huskily  and  rapidly. ) 
We  have  but  one  brief  moment  more  together. 

{Trying  to  rouse  her,  and  succeeding.} 
Wake! — there   is   one  thing  you  must   promise 

me. 

When  I  am  gone — their  ghastly  deed  been  done — 
I  wish  you  to  recall  me  as  I  am, — 

40  MONASKA.     Swear  it.     So  your  soul, 
As  I  depart  this  life,  may  draw  mine  own 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  103 

One  fit  for  all  things  almost,  save  to  die, 
Each  factor,  organ,  limb  of  me  complete, 
And,  at  this  moment,  hot  against  the  fire 
Blazed  through  me  by  your  love-enkindled  eyes, 
No  sinew  but  is  trembling  with  the  draft 
Of  that  delicious  flame;  and  yet  none  too 
Not  strengthened  by  a  power  divine  like  that 
Propelling  all  creation, — I  am  god, 
Not  man.     Nay,  nay !     Remember  me  as  god. 
You  must  not  see  that  unveiled,  writhing  frame 
Weak,  color-void,  save  where  the  death-blood 

dyes  it. 

Waloon,  you  must  not  be  there.     I  shall  writhe 
More  like  a  god  to  know  you  are  not  there. — 
But  go  you  where  we  met  first — in  the  woods — 
You  know  the  place — to  me  the  holiest  place 
My  life  has  ever  known  !     Waloon,  go  there. 
Oh,  swear  to  me  you  will. — My  soul  will  swear 
To  meet  you. 

WALOON.  What  ? 

MONASKA.  By  all  that  makes  me  god, 

In  form,  perchance,  in  spirit  certainly. — 
Will  you,  Waloon  ? 

WALOON.  I 

MONASKA.  Swear  it.40 

WALOON  (lifting  up  her  hand).     I — 

MONASKA.  Thank  heaven  ! 

Off  in  the  current  of  that  sympathy 
Forever  sweeping  from  my  life  to  yours, 


104  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Enter — Left — KOOT  H  A  . 
KOOTHA.     Your  time  is  up. 
MONASKA.  Farewell,  Waloon. 

WALOON.  Farewell.41 

Enter — Left — HAIJO  with  two  ATTENDANTS. 
MONASKA  (to  WALOON). 

Things  may  turn  brighter  than  you  fear,  Waloon. 
WALOON.     Could  they  be  darker?     Oh,  my  god, 

my  god! 

(She  bows  before  MONASKA,  clinging  to  his  hand.) 
KOOTHA  (to  HAIJO  as  he  points  to  WALOON). 

Note  how  complete  is  her  devotion,  sire. 
HAIJO  (to  KOOTHA,  but  at  the  same  time  motioning  to 

WALOON). 
Remove  her. 

(Pointing  to  MONASKA  and  speaking  to  the  ATTEND 
ANTS.) 

Lead  him  forth. 

MONASKA  (to  WALOON).  Farewell. 

WALOON  (to  MONASKA).  Farewell. 


Away  from  ways  where  human  wills  outwit 
The  wisdom  that  has  made  earth  what  it  is, 
To  where,  in  that  true  temple  of  the  spirit, 
The  winds  are  whispering  what  men  know  not  of, 
And  flower  and  leaf  are  trembling  like  the  heart 
That  feels  the  presence  of  the  power  divine. — 
There  go  I ,  darling — you  ? 
WALOON.  I  too,  etc. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


105 


MONASKA.     Do  not  forget — we  meet  where  only 

gods  are. 
.WALOON.     Yes — there. 
1  MONASKA.  Have  faith  and  hasten. 

Yes,  farewell. 
Exit — Left — WALOON. 
HAIJO  (to  MONASKA). 

Now  comes  the  hour  in  which  you  triumph. 
The  people  at  the  temple  wait  for  you 
To  do  you  adoration. 
[MONASKA  (lifting  up  his  hands). 

With  their  hands  ? 
HAIJO  (also  lifting  up  his  hands). 
To  lift  your  spirit  to  the  skies. 
MONASKA.  You  think 

I  crave  that  ? 

IHAIJO.  Most  men  would. 

IMONASKA.  A  wingless  hand 

Lifts  only  to  a  wingless  height.     A  role 
Not  past  the  common  reach  of  common  men 
Cannot  incite  uncommon  aspiration.42 

CURTAIN. 


41  Oh,  bitter,  bitter,  bitter  word  farewell, 
So  bitter  when  the  lips  belie  the  heart 

That  knows  too  well  that  life  will  not  fare  well. 

42  Lead  me  on. 

\Exi^—atthe  Left—  MONASKA,  led  by  the  two  ATTENDANTS. 


106  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

HAIJO  to  (KOOTHA). 

How  does  he  seem  to  take  it  ? 
KOOTHA.     Just  like  a  god  when  made  by  man ;  or,  if 

You  like  not  that,  a  man  when  made  by  a  god. — 

Is  there  much  difference  between  the  two  ? 
HAIJO.     And  how  Waloon  ? 
KOOTHA.  She  thinks  as  all  the  world  do  ; 

So  lives  enough  in  hell  to  please  a  priest. 
HAIJO.     You  villain  ! 

KOOTHA.  Yes,  I  always  do  your  bidding. 

HAIJO.     I  yet  will  rip  your  robes,  and  turn  you 

off. 

KOOTHA.     Oh,  no,  no  !    Am  too  useful  to  you  here. 
HAIJO.     Your  usefulness  is  at  an  end. 
KOOTHA.  Oh,  no. 

Have  learned  too  much  of  you. 
HAIJO 

(who  has  moved  toward  the  Left,  as  if  to  exit, 
turning  aboiit  suddenly). 

What  said  you  then  ? 

KOOTHA.     That  I  could  prove  so  useful  here  to  others 
HAIJO.     Ungrateful  cur ! 
KOOTHA.  Nay,  do  not  say  ungrateful. — 

Nay.     I  am  thankful  for  what  you  have  taught 

me. 
HAIJO.     My  curses  on  you  ! — To  the  sacrifice ! 

(HAijo  moves  towards  the  Left  Entrance.) 
KOOTHA  (aside). 

The  two  things  go  together.     And  how  kind, 

When  one  has  curses  loaded  on  him  so, 

To  let  him  load  them  on  another  ! 
HAIJO  (turning  toward  KOOTHA  suddenly). 

What? 

Away. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


107 


Exit—at  the  Left—  KOOTHA. 

His  insolence  must  end,  or  I 
Must  find  a  way  to  put  an  end  to  him. 
Exit— at  the  Left—  HAIJO. 


(SCENE  SECOND  : — Same  as  Scene  in  Act  Second. 
Enter — through  the  gateway, —  in  a  procession 
marching  to  the  music  of  the  orchestra,  ATTEND 
ANTS,  PRIESTS,  PRIESTESSES,  MAIDENS,  PAGES, 
HAIJO,  the  KING,  MONASKA  sitting  in  his  chariot, 
and  apparently  playing  his  lyre,  and,  near  the 
chariot,  KOOTHA.  WARRIORS  end  the  procession, 
and  station  themselves  near  the  gates  to  guard  them. 
They  are  not  closed.  The  ATTENDANTS  and  PRIESTS 
station  themselves  at  the  Right  of  stage  facing  Left ; 
the  PRIESTESSES  and  MAIDENS  at  Left  of  stage 
facing  Right.  The  PAGES  in  Front  of  pyramid. 
MONASKA  descends  from  chariot  and  stands  beside 
H  AIJ  o,  facing  the  pyramid.  KOOTHA  stands  nearer 
the  gate.  The  KING  ascends  the  pyramid  a  few 
steps,  and,  standing  in  front  of  the  rugs  forming  a 
seat  near  the  base  of  pyramid,  faces  the  audience. 
The  following  is  then  chanted : 

Oh,  not  what  life  appears  to  be, 

Is  what  in  life  is  true. 
Inveiled  behind  the  forms  we  see 

Are  things  we  cannot  view. 
What  but  the  spirit  working  through 
The  guise  men  wear  to  what  they  do 


IO8  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Reveals  the  force  that,  foul  or  fair, 
Awakes  and  makes  the  nature  there. 

The  sunshine  shows  the  worth  of  suns, 

The  moisture,  of  the  shower  ; 
The  stream,  of  rills  from  which  it  runs, 

The  fragrance,  of  the  flower  ; 
And,  oh,  the  spirit  when  it  springs 
Above  the  reach  of  earthly  things, 
As  fall  the  limbs  that  feed  the  shrine, 
Reveals  the  life  to  be  divine. 

(HAIJO  ascends  the  pyramid  a  few  steps,  and 
stands  beside  the  KING  facing  MONASKA, 
who  mounts  a  lower  step  and  whom 
HAIJO'S  hands  can  touch.) 

THE  KING.     Now  once  again,  unveiled  for  morta 

gaze, 

Immortal  mystery  and  man  have  met. 
The   heavens  bend  low  to  touch  the  earth,  an 

earth 
Is  lifting  up  its  longing  hands  to  heaven. 

HAIJO  (lifting  both  hands). 

Oh,  ye  that  dwell  less  in  the  earth  and  sky 
Than  in  the  meditations  of  the  mind, 
We  thank  thee  that  the  power  of  old  imposed 
On  ministers  of  earth  can  downward  call 

(HAIJO  here  places  both  palms  on  MONASKA'S  head.) 
Upon  a  form  in  fashion  like  their  own 
The  presence  of  the  gods'  own  power  above, 
Till  in  a  human  form  it  sits  enthroned. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  IOQ 

(As  he  utters  the  last  words,  the  KING  takes 
MONASKA  by  the  hand.  MONASKA  mounts 
the  pyramid  between  the  KING,  who  is  at 
his  right  as  he  turns  to  face  the  PEOPLE, 
and  HAIJO  who  is  at  his  left.  The  moment 
MONASKA  stands  on  the  step  between  the 
KING  and  HAIJO,  both  the  latter  and  all 
the  PEOPLE  kneel,  while  all  chant  the  fol 
lowing  .•) 

.IAIJO.     All  hail  the  heavenly  sun, 

PEOPLE.  The  heavenly  sun  ! 

.iAijo.     All  hail  the  glory  won, 

PEOPLE.  The  glory  won  ! 

IAIJO  and  PEOPLE. 

All  hail  the  sun  that  brings  the  light, 

All  hail  the  rays  that  shower, 
And  wake  the  barren  wastes  of  night 

To  germ  and  leaf  and  flower. 

IAIJO.     All  hail  the  heavenly  sun, 

'EOPLE.  The  heavenly  sun  J 

IAIJO.     All  hail  the  glory  won, 

'EOPLE.  The  glory  won  I 

IAIJO  and  PEOPLE. 

All  hail  the  life  behind  the  sun, 

All  hail  the  gods  that  dwell 
Where  men  whose  earthly  race  is  run 

Are  borne,  and  all  is  well. 

[AIJO.     All  hail  the  heavenly  sun, 


HO  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

PEOPLE.  The  heavenly  sun  j» 

HAIJO.     All  hail  the  glory  won, 

PEOPLE.  The  glory  won  ! 

HAIJO  and  PEOPLE. 

All  hail  the  form  of  him  who  dies, 

All  hail  the  soul  that  wends 
Up  through  the  skies,  and  onward  hies. 
All  hail  the  gods,  our  friends. 

(The  stage  grows  darker,  indicating  an   approaching^ 

storm. ) 
KING  (rising,  as  do  all  the  PEOPLE). 

Now  comes  the  deed  that  all  the  gods  await, 
The  final  act  of  solemn  joy  that  gives 
The  life  we  prize  to  those  that  reign  on  high. 
But  ere  his  lyre  be  given  to  the  king, 
Let  those  appointed  for  the  sacred  task 
Be  led  here  to  conduct  their  holy  charge 
On  his  most  holy  way. 

(HAIJO  moves,  as  if  to  descend  the  pyramid,  M 
stops,  and  turns  back  upon  hearing  M<| 
voice  of  MONASKA.) 
MONASKA  (to  KING.)     Your  majesty?— 

Sire,  may  I  ask  ? 

KlNG>  What  would  you  ? 

MON^SKA.  A  request 

If  I  may  speak. 
HAIJO  (to  KING). 

Sire,  he  needs  nothing. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  Ill 

MONASKA  (to  KING). 

Slight 

The  last  request  of  him  who  is  your  god? 
KING  (to  MONASKA). 

Say  on. 
MONASKA.     I  merely  thought,  sire,  that  my  spirit, 

To  be  inspired  the  better  toward  the  light, 

Should  gaze  upon  yon  rising  sun;  but  here 

It  cannot, 

(Pointing  toward  the  gateway  at  the  Rear?) 
KING.  Not  ? 

MONASKA  (motioning  toward  the  guards  between  the 
pyramid  and  the  gateway?) 

Could  these  but  step  aside  ! 

KING  (to  an  OFFICER  at  his  Left). 

Yes,  let  the  guards  there  stand  aside,  nor  hide 

The  sunlight  from  the  sacrifice. 
HAIJO  (to  KING,  making  a  gesture  of  dissent). 

But,  sire 

MONASKA  (to  HAIJO). 

I  seek  this  of  the  king. 
KING  (hesitating,    and    looking  from    MONASKA   to 
HAIJO,  then  addressing  the  OFFICER  again). 

As  Haijo  wishes. — 
You  need  not  give  the  order. 
(To  HAIJO.) 

Now  proceed. 

Let  those  appointed  for  the  sacred  task 
Be  led  here  to  conduct  their  holy  charge 
On  his  most  holy  way. 


112  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

(HAijo    descends   the  steps   of   the  pyramid. 

Those  about  separate  to  let  him  pass  them. 

Exeunt — Left    Third  Entrance—  HAIJO, 

followed  by  procession  of  PRIESTS.      A 

sudden  peal  of  thunder  with  lightning^ 

MONASKA  (to  KING,  availing  himself  of  the  general 
alarm  at  the  suddenness  of  the  peal]. 

You  dare  deny  me  ? 

The  gods  have  joined  me  in  my  last  request. 
Beware,  lest  by  the  charm  yourselves  invoke 
These  gods,  that  you  but  half  believe  in,  check, 
In    ways    that    pride   like    yours   deserves,   the 

course 

And  curse  of  most  foul  infidelity. 
KING.     Well,  well,  it  matters  little. 
(To  OFFICER,  and  gesturing  toward  the  gateway^ 

Officer, 
Give  orders  that  the  guard  there  stand  aside. 

(OFFICER  moves  toward  the  gateway  and  ges 
tures.  The  GUARD  move  towardthe  Right 
KOOTHA  takes  a  station  between  the  pyramid 
and  the  gateway.  KING  continues  to 
MONASKA.) 
Now  are  you  ready  ? 

MONASKA.  If  the  man  be  naught, 

Let  not  the  spirit  that  you  deem  divine 
Depart,  ere  it  invoke  the  powers  above 
To  rest  in  endless  benediction  here. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  1 13 

KING.     This  proves  how  wisely  you  were  chosen 
god.— 

(To  PEOPLE.) 

Prepare,  ye  people,  for  a  benediction 
Which  he  whom  all  men  worship  now  vouchsafes. 
(PEOPLE  kneel,  and  bend  their  heads.  MONASKA, 
lifting  one  hand,  motions  to  the  GUARD  near 
the  gate  that  they  too  kneel.     KOOTHA,  by 
motions,  seconds  his  wish,  bidding  them  all 
kneel  down,  which  they  do,  bending  their 
heads  forward,  and  casting  down   their 
eyes.     They  are  in  front  of  the  gateway, 
with  their  backs  toward  //.) 

[ONASKA  (noticing  that  the  KING  is  still  standing}. 
I  would  include  you  too,  sire. 
ING.  Me  ? 

[MONASKA.  YOU  tOO — 

\(The  KING  kneels.      While  he  is  doing  so,  MONASKA 

lifts  both  hands  and  says — aside.} 
Now  pray  I  on,  until  the  heavens  all  flash, 
Then  trust  in  them  to  end  it,  pealing  down 
Their  own  high  benediction  on  myself. 

(To  the  PEOPLE  in  a  slow,  loud  manner?) 
This  is — my — benediction — for  the  people. 

(Bright  flash  of  lightning,  followed  by  a  loud 
peal  of  thunder.  MONASKA  hurls  the  lyre 
down  upon  the  head  of  the  KING,  then  flies 
past  KOOTHA  behind  the  SOLDIERS,  and 
through  the  gateway  backing  at  the  Right) 


114 


THE   AZTEC  GOD. 


KING.     Help,  help  ! 

KOOTHA   (running    toward    KING    and    motioning 
GUARDS  to  do  the  same). 

What  is  it  ? 
KING  (to  OFFICER,  who  is  betiding  over  him}. 

He  has  murdered  me, 
KOOTHA.     Oh,  murder,  murder  ! 
(To  the  GUARDS.) 

Shut  the  gates.     Let  none 

Escape. 

(GUARDS  hasten  and  close  the  gates  backing  at  the 

Right.} 

OFFICER.     Where  is  he  ? — Stop  him. 
KOOTHA  (standing  on  astepof  the  pyramid  at  the  Back 
Center  and  looking  toward  the  Right}. 

Ah!  too  late! 

CURTAIN. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD. 


ACT   FIFTH. 

SCENE  : — Same  as  in  Act  First.     The  darkness  of 

an  approaching  storm. 
Enter— from  the  Left — WALOON. 
WALOON.43    The  voice  of  thunder? — Can  it  be  that 
he 


43  WALOON.    Yes,  yes,  it  is  the  place.    No  doubt  of  that. 
Yet,  in  the  dark,  is  all  so  vague  and  wild. 
How  the  whole  air  is  weighted  with  the  gloom  ! 
Even  to  draw  it  in,  my  lungs,  o'ertaxed, 
Would  rather  choose  not  breathe  than  bear  the 

burden. 

These  clouds  are  curtained  like  a  funeral  pall, 
Fit  funeral  pall,  round  my  dear  dying  hope. — 
My  dying  hope  ? — Oh,  selfish,  cruel  soul, 
To  think  of  it  when,  even  now,  perchance, 
That  dear,  dear  heart,  so  eager-sped  by  love, 
Whose  each  pulsation,  like  a  paddle's  beat 
Seemed  furthering  some  canoe's  o'erladen  prow 
Where  it  should  rest  and  empty  at  my  feet ; — 
That  dear,  dear  heart,  so  pliant  to  my  wish 
That,  at  my  lightest  breath,  the  brightening 

smiles 
Would  open  round  his  lips  in  hues  as  fair 


Il6  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Would   speak   to   me    through   that? — No,   not 

through  that. 
Not    he  ! — He    loves    me. — Yet   he   may    have 

changed.44 

I  almost  had  forgot  he  is  a  god. 
Though  what  would  gods  be  for,  if  man  were 

good? 

And  if  he  be  not  good,  what  are  they  for, 
Except  to  punish  him  ? — and  am  I  doom'd  ? — 
Why  not? — Is  not  my  spirit  in  rebellion? 
It  may  be  not  the  god  in  him  but  man, 
The  man  they  rightly  killed,  that  tempted  me 
To  leave  the  temple  and  to  wander  here. 
And  now  the  god,  then  prisoned  in  the  man, 
May  wreak  his  vengeance  on  me. 
(Thunder.} 

Hark — again ! — 

And  rain  too!     I  must  find  a  shelter.     What? — 
(Looking  toward  the  Left.} 


As  rosebuds  parted  by  the  breeze  of  May  ; 

That  dear,  dear  heart,  the  germ  of  all  he  was— 

The  sweetest  outgrowth  of  the  sweetest  life 

This  earth  has  ever  molded  into  form  ; 

To  think  that  even  now  a  heart  like  that, 

Its  nerve-roots  quivering  in  their  agony, 

Is  being  torn  out  from  the  bleeding  breast 

As  if  some  foulest  weed  that  could  pollute 

A  soil  that,  just  to  hold  it — that  alone — 

Is  more  than  sacred  !     Oh,  how  can  the  heavens 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  1 1? 

Can  they  be  soldiers? — Can  I  be  pursued? 

Exit— at  the  Right— WALOON. 
Enter— from  the  Left— Two  SOLDIERS. 

(  Thunder  and  lightning. ) 
?IRST  SOLDIER  (looking  toward  the  Right). 

A  woman,  I  am  sure. 
SECOND  SOLDIER.         If  so,  not  he. 
No  noise  ! — Were  he  to  think  himself  pursued 
He  might  escape  us. 

?IRST  SOLDIER.  That  could  never  be. 

The  woods  are  wholly  circled  by  us  now ; 
And  him  we  know  to  be  inside. 
(Moving  toward  the  Right  Upper  Entrance?) 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 

SECOND  SOLDIER  (looking  earnestly  toward  the  Right 
Upper  Entrance^  but  moving  toward  the  Left). 

This  way  I 

I  saw  a  form  there  coming ;  and  the  price 
Of  capturing  by  surprise  is  keeping  silence. 


Be  so  unjust  ?    Far  better  not  to  think 

Than  think  but  of  that  fearful,  bleeding  vision. 

Would,  would  that  I  could  veil  it  out — but  no  ! 

44  Some  tell  us  that  the  fairest  forms  on  earth, 
Most  full  of  mirth  and  softness  and  caress, 
Whose  mildness  tames  life's  wild,  coquettish  blood 
Leave  in  the  tomb  their  loveliness  and  charm, 
And  go  thence,  fiends. — And  he? — no,  no,  not 
so!— 


Il8  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

FIRST  SOLDIER.     Ay,  you  are  right.     No  wise  men 

spring  a  trap 
Till  sure  their  prey  is  in  it.     We  withdraw. 

Exeunt— at  the  Left— Two  SOLDIERS. 

(Thunder  and  lightning^} 
Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — MONASKA. 
MONASKA  (soliloquizing}. 

At  last,  the  place  !     I  feared  I  should  be  lost, 

So  many  in  pursuit,  and  everywhere, 

Before,  behind,  on  every  side  of  me, 

Who  know  the  ground  so  well,  and  I  so  ill ! 

Strength  speeds  the  feet,  but  knowledge  aims  the 

bow, 

And  where  the  one  but  just  begins  the  race, 
The  arrows  of  the  other  cleave  the  goal. 
Who   could  have  thought  so  many  cross-roads 

here 

And  short-cuts  to  a  pathway  well-nigh  straight  ? 
At  last,  I  seem  now  to  have  dodged  the  foe  ; 
And  if  I  find  Waloon — what  then  ? — I  fear 
We  might  attempt  escape  in  vain. — Perchance 
It  may  be  best  that  she  should  not  be  here, 
To  die  disgraced  if  found  with  me — no,  no; 


45  What  sanguine  brain  is  mine  !     How  know  I 

this? 

To  most  men  no  disgrace  can  loom  like  theirs 
Who  dare  do  aught  save  by  the  grace  of  custom. 
Where  earth's  esteem  is  what  all  strive  for  first, 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  Iig 

Did  she  but  dream  of  life  I  plan  for  her, 
Disgrace    from    its    foes    would    to    her    seem 
honor! 45— 

(  Thunder  and  lightning.} 
(MONASKA  looks  toward  the  Right} 
Who  come? — more   warriors? — No, — my  soul — 

she? — yes — 

Ye  gods,  if  I  have  not  deserved  the  doom 
Of  deepest  hell,  for  her  sake,  god  me  now. 

Enter— from  the  Right — WALOON. 
WALOON.     Monaska! — Oh,  ye  angels,  can  it  be? — 

{Kneeling. ) 

Nay,  blast  me  not  that  these  unworthy  eyes 
Should  have  presumed  to  gaze  where  earth  is 

blest 

With  this  transcendent  vision. 
MONASKA.  Yes,  Waloon, 

You  see  me. 

WALOON.     You? — Oh,  love,  chastise  me  not. 
MONASKA  (aside}. 

Nay,  I  will  not  chastise  her  with  the  truth. 

(To  WALOON,  taking  her  by  the  hand} 
Rise  up,  Waloon,  rise  up.     I  merely  love  you. 

Her  customs  make  them  cowards  to  the  call 
Of  conscience  ;  and  the  foulest  crime 
Seems  not  a  curse,  if  it  be  only  common. 
Waloon  too — could  I  ever  dare  reveal 
To  what  departure  from  all  common  ways, 


120  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

WALOON.     You  love  me? — what? — this  poor  weak 
fainting  flesh? 

(She  rises.) 
MONASKA.     Yes,  it  is  this  I  love. — I  thank  you, 

friend, 

You  had  such  faith,  and  came  here. 
WALOON.  Thank  the  gods 

That  I  have  lived  to  do  what  pleased  a  god. 
MONASKA.     Waloon,  do  I  fulfill  your  soul's  ideal 
Of  what  a  god  should  be  ? 

To  all  that  she  deems  holy,  I  had  led  her  ? 
What  right  have  I,  more  than  these  priests  have 

here 

To  slay  me  for  the  safety  of  their  souls, — 
What  right  have  I  to  shade  her  future  life, 
Or  slay  her,  as  it  may  be,  for  my  love  ? 
And  were  she  now  to  come  and  find  in  me 
A  murderer,  where  she  hopes  to  find  a  god, 
A  coward,  driven  in  fright  from  ordeals 
Which  she  had  prayed  would  prove  him  fit  for 

heaven, — 

Oh,  how  might  she  abhor  these  treacherous  arms, 
Thrown  open  to  receive  her  !  how  detest 
Lips  that  to  keep  her  love  must  keep  their  lies  ! 
What  has  my  rashness  wrought?    Is  it  so  well 
For  one  man  to  resist  what  all  men  wish? — 
The  customs  that  the  centuries  have  crowned  ? 
How  many  have  dared  all  to  thwart  the  world 
And  only  thwarted  good  the  world  could  do 

them  ! 


THE   AZTEC  GOD. 


121 


(The  stage  begins  to  grow  brighter?) 
I/ALOON.  Ah,  more,  far  more. 

llONASKA.     If  I  came  back  to  live  on  earth  with 

you 

'ALOON.     Nay,  hint  not  that.     Earth  would  be  too 

much  heaven. 

LONASKA.     And  if  I  were  to  tell  you  this,  Waloon, 
That,  far  away  from  here,  there  lies  a  realm 
Where  gods  like  me  can  live  with  maids  like  you, 
But  that,  to  go  there,  you  must  rend  yourself 
Forever  from  the  land  that  is  your  home, 


I  might  have  passed  from  earth  upon  a  throne, 
Revered  by  all  men,  and  beloved  by  her, — 
Her  god  ! — and  shall  I  now  become  her  fiend? — 
Live  on  condemned  by  her,  because  I  dared 
To  fight  against  a  world  that  all  should  serve  ? 
Ah,  if  my  dying  could  have  given  one  heart 
That  comfort  of  the  spirit  which  all  crave, 
How  could  my  soul  have  wrought  a  godlier  deed  ? 
We  live  our  lives  for  use  ;  if  men  misuse  us, 
Far  better  so  than  that  we  lose  our  use  ! 
And  yet, — what  is  our  use  ? — Oh,  would  some 

power 

Could  tell  us  how  to  balance,  in  our  lives, 
The  rule  of  others  and  the  rule  of  self  ! 
How  can  we,  when  the  two  conflict,  serve  both  ? 
And  which  one  should  we  serve  ? — which  first  ? — 

For  me, 

Till  spirit  seem  no  more  than  matter  is, 
I  hold  it  that  which  rules  me  through  the 

spirit. 


122  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

Where  dwell  your  friends  and  kindred,  would  you 

go? 
WALOON.     Though   you   be    god,    you    know    not 

woman's  heart, 
If  you  believe  I  would  not. 
MONASKA.  Swear  it  then. 

WALOON.     I  swear 

MONASKA.  To  leave  this  land  and  all 

you  love  here, 

And  fly  to  live  alone  with  me  forever  ? 
WALOON.     And  fly  to  live  alone  with  you. 
MONASKA.  Forever  ? 

WALOON.     I  do. — What  moved? 

(She  points  toward  the  Left.     Stage  grows 

darker  again,   with  a  sound  of  distant 

thunder  and  slight  flash  of  lightning.) 

MONASKA  (looking  toward  the  left). 

It  seemed  a  flash  from  weapons.) 
WALOON.     The  woods  are  full  of  warriors,  as 

think. 
MONASKA  (aside,  as  he  moves  from  her  and  look* 

around  him). 

I  see — are  all  around  each  side  of  us. 
O  heavens,  our  time  has  corne! — Yet  move  the) 

off. 

We  have  a  moment  more. 

(Pointing  to  the  moss-covered  bench,  apparently  hidde, 
behind  a  tree  near  the  Right  Upper  Entrance. ) 

Waloon,  in  here! 


THE   AZTEC  GOD.  12$ 

VALOON  (gazing  around,  and  apparently  seeing  the 
SOLDIERS,  then   seating  herself  on   the  bench> 
where  MONASKA  sits  beside  her). 
I  know  not  what  it  means. 
IONASKA.  You  never  heard 

Of  hosts  that  come  with  gods  to  visit  earth  ? 
Waloon,  were  I  to  tell  you  that  the  realm 
In  which  the  gods  dwell  could  be  reached  by  you 
In  one  way  only, — in  the  self-same  way 
That  severs  in  the  temple  soul  from  form 
In  him  your  priests  and  people  choose  as  god  ? — 
VALOON.     Then  I  would  thank  the  force  that  severed 

me 

From  all  that  could  weigh  down  a  soul  so  light 
That     but     for     them     it     might    soar    up    to 
heaven. 

Swear  you  mean  truly  what  you  say, 
Waloon. 

SALOON  (lifting  her  hand.)     I  swear  it. 
MONASKA  (motioning  her  to  drop  her  hand). 

Wait — could  you  return  again 
And  be  a  priestess  in  the  temple  there, 
As  you  have  told  me  that  you  would  become, 
With  all  the  honor  that  a  priestess  has, 
And  all  the  consciousness  of  deeds  divine, 
And  could  you,  as  the  years  wore  on,  forget 

The  love  you  once  had  borne  this  god 

WALOON.  No,  no. 

I  never  could  forget  that. 


124  THE   AZTEC  GOD. 

(Stage  from  here  on  keeps  growing  brighter?) 
MONASKA.  Hear  me  through. 

Your  king  is  absolute.     He  could  do  all 
Your  heart  desires.     What  say  you,  should  there 

come 

A  time  when  he — he  loves  you  now,  Waloon — 
Should  choose  you  for  his  queen.     If  this,  Waloon, 
This  exaltation  over  all  the  earth, 
Were  your  bright  destiny,  say,  would  you  choose 
To  die,  die  here  alone  with  faith  in  one 
Whose  only  welcome  for  you  is  a  blow  ? — 

(Doubling  and  lifting  his  fist?) 
Would  you  choose  this  ? 
WALOON.  I  would. 

MONASKA.  In  truth  ? 

WALOON.  I  would. — 

(Half  rising,  and  looking  toward  the  Left?) 
Who  is  that  coming  ? 
MONASKA  (looking  the  same  way,  then  at  her). 

Do  not  be  afraid. 

Why  should  a  soul  with  faith  sublime  as  yours 

Fear  aught  ? — Your  love  alone,  if  nothing  else, 

Could  here  create  of  me  the  god  you  think  me. 

(Hurriedly  and  nervously,  as  he   induces  her  to  lie  on 

the  moss-covered  bench?) 

These  come  to  summon  both  of  us  to  heaven. 
Here  darling,  rest  your  head  upon  this  mound. 
Cast  one  look  more  at  me,  then  let  me  veil 
These  loving,  earthly  eyes  from  all  of  earth. 


THE  AZTEC  GOD.  12$ 

A  look  like  this  must  never  see  the  stroke 

That  drives  the  soul-light   out   of   them. — There, 

there, 

You  are  content,  my  darling,  you  are  sure  ? — 
Content  to  live  with  me  in  spirit  only  ? 
WALOON.     I  am.     I  am. 

MONASKA.  Farewell. — I  mean  farewell 

To  earthly  presence. 

(Placing  a  branch  or  wreath  over  her  eyes.) 
Now  to  angel  hands 
I  leave  my  angel — nor  a  whit  too  soon. 

(Gazing  anxiously  toward  the  Left.) 
WAPELLA  (from  behind  the  Left  Second  entrance). 

Monaska. 
WALOON  (aside). 

Who  is  that  ? 
WAPELLA.  Monaska. 

MONASKA  (rising).  What? 

I  know  that  voice. 

(To  WALOON.) 

Lie  still,  dear.     I  return 
Enter — Left  Second  Entrance — WAPELLA. 
WAPELLA.     Monaska. 
MONASKA  (moving  to  meet  WAPELLA). 

What  ?— Wapella  ? 
WAPELLA.  Yes, — with  friends.— 

To  save  you. 

MONASKA.         How  can  this  be  ?     How  came  you 
To  seek  me  here  ? 


126  THE  AZTEC  GOD. 

Enter— Left  Second  £ntrance-—KooTHA. 
(2'he  stage  is  brilliantly  illumined,  and  warriors  enter 

from  every  side.) 

WAPELLA.  We  tracked  you.     Weeks  ago, 

When  learning  what  would  be  your  fate,  I  fled. 
I  found  our  comrades,  many  still  not  slain. 
We  all  returned,  and  watched  here  in  the  woods. 
Then  Kootha  met  us — vowed  to  do  his  best 
To  save  you,  and  this  morning,  when  you  flew, 
We  watched,  we  dodged,  we   circled   round  your 

path, 

And    now    have    trapped    you.     We    shall    all 
escape. 

(In  surprise,  as  they  approach  WALOON.) 
Waloon  is  with  you? 
MONASKA  (taking  WALOON  by  the  hand). 

Yes. — Rise  up,  Waloon. 
WALOON  (rising  and  gazing  about  in  a  dazed  way).  \ 

And  who  are  these? 
MONASKA.  Kind  friends  to  welcome  us, 

And  lead  us  to  the  realm  of  which  I  spoke. 
WALOON.     The  realm? — What  realm? 
MONASKA.         What  realm,  Waloon?— My  heaven,] 

CURTAIN. 
END  OF  THE  DRAMA. 


COLUMBUS. 


COLUMBUS. 


INTRODUCTION  :  PLACE  AND  TIME. 

This  drama  is  intended  to  be  a  study,  psychologic  rather 
:han  historic,  though  not  unhistoric,  of  the  character  of  Co- 
umbus,  as  manifested  and  developed  in  connection  with  his 
jxperiences  before,  during,  and  after  his  discovery  of  America. 
The  general  outline  of  the  plot  is  as  follows  : 

ACT  FIRST:  In  Portugal.  SCENE  FIRST:  A  public 
quare.  Talk  about  the  plans  of  Columbus  and  about  him- 
elf.  His  entrance,  his  introduction  to  Felipa,  and  invitation 
o  her  house.  SCENE  SECOND  :  Room  in  the  house  of  Felipa. 
leasons  why  Columbus  hopes  for  success,  the  failure  of  his 
lopes,  and  his  betrothal.  SCENE  THIRD  :  Same  room  ten 
fears  later,  rearranged  as  study  of  Columbus.  Hounded  by 
lis  creditors  and  wronged  by  the  King,  he  loses  Felipa  by 
death  and  decides  to  leave  Portugal. 

ACT  SECOND:  In  Spain.  SCENE  FIRST:  A  Spanish 
camp  at  midnight.  Columbus  has  enlisted  as  a  soldier,  is 
ridiculed  for  his  schemes,  has  a  talk  with  Beatrix,  is  present 
at  an  attempted  assassination  of  the  Queen,  and  thus  comes  to 
meet  the  King.  SCENE  SECOND  :  The  Council  of  Salamanca, 
called  to  confer  with  Columbus  and  discuss  his  projects. 
A  summary  of  the  popular  objections  urged  against  them. 
SCENE  THIRD  :  The  exterior  of  the  convent  of  La  Rabida. 
To  prevent  Columbus  from  leaving  her  country,  and  to  insure 
the  success  of  his  plans,  the  Queen  pledges  to  him  the  Crown 
ewels  of  Castile. 


130  COLUMBUS. 

ACT  THIRD  :  In  Transit.  SCENE  FIRST  :  A  street  in 
Palos  near  its  harbor.  The  difficulties  and  opposition  en 
countered  by  Columbus  when  preparing  to  sail,  coming  from 
his  friends,  as  Beatrix,  and  from  his  enemies,  who  try  even  to 
destroy  his  boats.  SCENE  SECOND  :  The  deck  of  his  ship  at 
sea.  The  mutineers,  their  talk  when  alone  and  when  with 
Columbus,  and  his  dealing  with  it.  The  midnight  discovery 
of  land,  and  the  morning  approach  to  it. 

ACT  FOURTH  :  In  Triumph.  SCENE  FIRST  :  Room  in 
a  house  in  Spain.  Columbus  welcomed  by  Beatrix,  and  urged 
to  secure  benefits  from  the  Crown  ;  and  his  description  to  her 
and  to  Diego  of  his  voyage  and  the  new  land.  SCENE  SECOND  : 
Reception  at  the  palace  of  Barcelona  by  the  King,  Queen,  and 
populace.  SCENE  THIRD  :  Dining  hall  in  the  house  of  Car 
dinal  Mendoza.  The  egg  story. 

ACT  FIFTH  :  In  Chains.  SCENE  FIRST  :  Camp  in  His- 
paniola.  Opposition  to  Columbus  on  the  part  of  noblemen 
and  imported  criminals.  Placed  in  chains  by  his  enemies. 
SCENE  SECOND  :  House  in  Seville.  Death  of  Columbus. 
SCENE  THIRD  :  A  final  tableau  with  hymn,  representing  a 
vision  of  the  dying  Columbus,  portraying  the  progress  and 
present  condition  of  America. 


THE  FOLLOWING  CHARACTERS  APPEAR   ONLY 
IN  THE  FOLLOWING  ACTS. 


In  the  First  Act  Only. 

James  of  Mallorca,  Waiter 

Correo»  Felipa,' 

Tailor'  DonaCorreo, 

Grocer»  Woman. 

In  the  Second  Act  Only. 
Fernandez,  Zalora> 

Talavera>  Perez, 

St.  Angel,  Other  MonK 

Attendant. 

Only  after  the  First,  in  the  Second  and  later  Acts. 
King  Ferdinand,  Arana 

<futierrez>  Beatrix, 

Sanchez'  Queen  Isabella, 

Mendoza. 

Only  after  the  Second  and  in  later  Acts. 

Roldan, 
Citizen. 

Only  in  the  Fifth  Act. 


Fernando* 


What  moves  me  seems  beyond  all  conscious  thought; 
Seems  like  the  lure  that  leads  the  summer  bird 
Southward  when  comes  the  fall.     It  is  enough, 
It  is  my  destiny.     I  weigh  it  well, 
And  find  it  rational;  yet  why  I  first 
Conceived  it  as  I  do,  I  cannot  tell. 

COLUMBUS,  III,  i 

Think  not  I  lived  my  life 
To  beg  men  for  a  badge  to  brag  about  /— 
Enough,  if  /  have  been  an  influence. 

IDSM,  V*  2. 


CHARACTERS. 


(CHRISTOPHER)  COLUMBUS. 
DIEGO  (COLUMBUS). 
BARTHOLOMEW  (COLUMBUS). 
FONSECA. 


BREVIESCA. 

KING  FERDINAND. 
GUTIERREZ. 

SANCHEZ. 

JAMES  OF  MALLORCA, 

CORREO. 

FERNANDEZ. 
MENDOZA. 

TALAVERA. 
ST.  ANGEL. 

ZALORA. 

ARANA. 

PEREZ. 


The  Discoverer  of  America. 
[_  Brothers   of    Christopher    Co- 
i      lumbus. 

Archdeacon  of  Seville,  Trav 
eler  in  Portugal,  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Badajos,  Palentia, 
and  Burgos  ;  then  Patriarch 
of  the  Indies. 

A  Portuguese  friend  of  Fon- 
seca,  then  later  his  Secretary, 
Treasurer,  and  Agent  in 
Spain. 

Of  Aragon,  and,  after  Mar 
riage,  of  Spain. 

Gentleman  of  the  Spanish 
King's  Bedchamber,  and 
Officer. 

Officer,  Inspector-General  of 
Columbus'  Expedition. 

President  of  the  Portuguese 
Naval  School. 

Husband  of  Sister  of  Felipa, 
Columbus'  Wife. 

Physician  and  Scientist  of  Spain 

Archbishop  of  Toledo,  Grand 
Cardinal  of  Spain. 

Bishop  of  Avila,  Confessor  to 
the  Queen. 

Receiver  of  Ecclesiastical  Rev 
enues  of  Aragon. 

Bishops  of  Spain. 

A  Monk,  subsequently  Prior  of 
the  Convent  of  La  Rabida 
near  Palos. 


133 


CHARACTERS. 


ESCOBAR. 

PlNTOR. 
ROLDAN. 

VELASQUEZ. 

YOUNG  DIEGO. 

FERNANDO. 

TAILOR. 

GROCER. 

WAITER. 

MOOR. 

OTHER  MONK. 

ATTENDANT. 

INDIAN. 

FELIPA  (PERESTRELLO). 

BEATRIX  (ENRIQUEZ). 


QUEEN  ISABELLA. 

DONA  CORREO. 

WOMAN. 
MAID. 


)  Sailors  with  Columbus,  Settlers 
f     in  the  New  World. 

Subtreasurer  in  Hispaniola. 

Eldest  Son  of  Columbus. 

Youngest  Son  of  Columbus. 

In  the  First  Act. 


In  the  Second  Act. 

In  the  Fifth  Act. 

Wife  of  Columbus,  Mother  of 

young  Diego. 
Companion  of  Columbus  after 

Felipa's    death,    Mother    of 

Fernando  Columbus. 
Of  Castile  and,  after  Marriage, 

of  Spain. 

Sister  of  Felipa,  wife  of  Correo, 
In  the  First  Act. 
In  First  and  other  Acts. 


CITIZENS,  OFFICERS,  SOLDIERS,  COURTIERS,  SAILORS, 
SETTLERS,  WOMEN,  ETC. 


COLUMBUS. 


ACT  FIRST. 

SCENE  FIRST. — A  street  or  square  in  Lisbon,  Portu 
gal.  Backing  at  the  Right,  a  wineshop >,  in  front  of 
which  are  two  tables  each  with  four  chairs  about  it. 
Backing  at  the  Left,  a  convent  wall  ending  against  a 
chapel,  the  door  of  which  faces  the  audience.  En 
trances  at  the  Right  Center  through  the  door  of  the 
wineshop;  at  the  Left  Center  through  a  curtain  hang 
ing  in  the  doorway  of  chapel;  and  at  the  Right  and 
Left  Sides  through  streets.  The  curtain  rising  dis 
closes  FONSECA  and  JAMES  OF  MALLORCA  seated  at 
the  Right.  The  following  is  chanted  in  the  chapel. 

O  Life  divine,  from  thee  there  springs 

All  good  that  germs  and  grows, 
Thy  Light  behind  the  sunlight  brings 

The  harvests  to  their  close. 

O  Life  divine,  thou  art  the  source 

Of  truth  within  the  soul ; 
Thou  art  the  guide  through  all  the  course 

That  leads  it  to  its  goal. 

O  Life  divine,  what  soul  succeeds 

In  aught  on  earth  but  he 
Who  moves  as  all  desires  and  deeds 

Are  lured  and  led  by  thee  ! 

135 


136  COLUMBUS. 

Enter — Left  Side — BREVIESCA,  and  sits  at  Left  table. 
FONSECA  (to  JAMES).     You  came  to  see? 
JAMES.  That  man  Columbus. 

FONSECA.  Him? 

A  crank, — and  worse,  a  creaking  crank! 
JAMES.  Without 

Some  crank  to  creak  of  it,  men  might  forget 

The  wheels  of  thought.1 
BREVIESCA  (to  *elj  ).     Must  wait  till  church  is  out ; 

Then  meet  by  accident — go  home  with  her, 

And  fish  an  invitation  to  her  house — 

A  lovely  girl,  Felipa! — As  I  live — 
Enter— Left  Side— DIEGO. 

That  man  I  met  when  traveling  in  Spain! 

Is  always  looming  up.     I  wonder  what 

Should  bring 

DIEGO  (to  BREVIESCA).     Good-day  to  Senior  Bre- 

viesca. 
BREVIESCA  (rising).     Good-day  to  you. 

1  The  wheels  of  thought  were  made  to  move  them  on. 
FONSECA.     You  place  thought  on  the  right  track 
once,  you  find 

What  moves  it  on  is  not  what  moves  it  off. 

They  differ. 
BREVIESCA  (to  himself).     I  must  wait,  etc. 

2  BREVIESCA.     Are  candid. 

DIEGO.  Wish  to  be.     For  that  I  changed. 

God  started  man  ;  man's  deviltry  the  priest. 


COLUMBUS.  137 

j DIEGO  (looking  toward  the  chapel}.     Your  servant, 

Senior. — So! — 

At  your  devotions  that  you  told  me  of — 
Front  door  ones,  too ! — No  wonder  you  deemed 

strange 

My  studying  for  the  priesthood! 
BREVIESCA.  But  you  said 

That  you  had  turned  from  it. 
DIEGO.  Oh  yes!     Truth  is 

That  I  too  am  in  love — but  love  myself.* 
FONSECA  (to  BREVIESCA,  rising  and  going  toward 

him  with  JAMES).     Is  this  not  Senior ? 

BREVIESCA  (to  FONSECA).     Senior  Breviesca? 
FONSECA.     And  I,   Fonseca — Spaniard — met    you 

once 

In  Seville.     You  recall?— 
BREVIESCA.  Archdeacon — yes. 

You  honor  me. 
FONSECA.     You  pleased  me  when  we  met. 

For  one,  I  like  the  thing  God  started  best. 
BREVIESCA.     Like  others,  eh  ? — yet  like  yourself. 
DIEGO.  I  do ; 

That  is,  we  two  do — God  and  I. 
BREVIESCA.  And  now 

They  style  you,  "  Your  Irreverence  "? 
DIEGO.  I  am  reverent. 

BREVIESCA.     A  different  point  of  view  ! 
DIEGO,  If  looking  down, 

You  seem  the  one  ;  if  looking  up,  the  other. 


138  COLUMBUS. 

{Introducing  JAMES.) 

Professor  James — Mallorca — naval  school. 
BREVIESCA  (introducing  DIEGO). 

And  Senior  Diego  of (hesitating). 

DIEGO.  The  world. 

BREVIESCA.  Quite  true  ! 

DIEGO.     A  traveler,  knowing  little — would  know 

more. 
JAMES.     A  wish  to  my  own  heart!      I  came  to 

meet 

The  mariner  Columbus  here. 
Enter — Left  Center — FELIPA,  CORREO,  and  DONA 

CORREO. 

BREVIESCA.         So  ?     ( Then  seeing  FELIPA.)     Ah  ! 
DIEGO  (to  JAMES,  as  he  looks  at  FELIPA). 

A  pretty  point,  too,  for  his  exclamation. 
JAMES  (to  DIEGO).     Would  you  see  more  of  it  ? 

{To  FELIPA.)  Good-day. 

FELIPA  and  DONA  CORREO.  Good-day. 

CORREO  (to  all}.     Good-day. 
JAMES  (introducing  DIEGO). 

Allow  me,  Captain,  Senior  Diego, 

3  WAITER.  Red  or  white  ? 

JAMES  (to  all).     What  say  you  ? 

DONA  CORREO.  None  for  me,  thanks. 

JAMES  (to  FELIPA).  You  ? 

FELIPA.  Nor  me. 

JAMES  (to  the  others).  The  gentlemen,  at  least  ? 

CORREO.  I  will  perhaps. 


COLUMBUS.  139 

I   A  traveler  like  yourself. — 

(introducing  to  ladies]  Seniora  C'rreo, 
And  Seniorita  F'lipa  Perestrello. 
Will  sit  ?— and  Waiter  ? 

Enter — Right  Center— WAITER. 

Wine  here.3 
Exit — Right  Center — WAITER. 

(All  seat  themselves  at  the  tables,  from  left  to 
right,  in  this  order :  first  empty  chair, 
then  DIEGO,  D.  CORREO,  CORREO,  FELIPA, 
JAMES,  BREVIESCA  and  FONSECA.  JAMES 
continues  to  CORREO.) 

Was  that  man 
Columbus  in  the  church  ? 
DORREO.  Not  met  him. 

AMES.  No  ? 

A  sailor,  drawing  maps  now  for  our  school — 
^ONSECA.     Who  should  be  kept  to  that  and  facts — 

not  draw 

So  much  upon  his  fancy.4     Put  it  thus  : 
If  what  he  says  be  right,  the  church  is  wrong. 

JAMES.     I  thought  it.     (to  other  gentlemen.}    You 

too? — White,  not  so?     Its  hue 
Will  fit  the  sunny  air,  and  make  us  think 
Of  drinking  in  the  sunshine  ! 

4  JAMES.  You  should  hear 

His  arguments. 


I4O  COLUMBUS. 

JAMES.    Oh,  not  so  bad  as  that ! — has  not  found  out. 

FONSECA.     If  what  he  says  be  wrong,  his  dupes  will 

drown,     (to  CORREO.) 

Not  so? 
CORREO.     It  is  the  first  time  yet  that  I 

Have  heard  of  him. 
FONSECA.  You  will  hear  soon  enough. 

The  surest  proof  we  men  are  not  all  fools, 

Is  in  the  way  we  bruit  them  when  we  find  them. 
DIEGO.     Ay,  and  the  surest  we  are  not  all  brutes, 

Is  in  the  way  our  thinkers  make  us  mind  them. 

Enter — Right  Center — WAITER  with  a  bottle 

and  wine-glasses  which  he  sets  before  tht 

gentlemen— They  pay  him. 

JAMES.     A  friend  of  his,  eh  ? 

DIEGO.  Yes. 

CORREO.  Have  known  him  long  ? — 

Can  tell  us  of  him  ? 
DIEGO.  Is  from  Genoa ; 

A  mathematician,  studied  at  Pavia. 

Since  then,  till  now,  for  more  than  twenty  years, 

A  sailor  and  a  soldier — in  the  scrubs 


FONSECA.  Say  feel  them — all  their  points 

Well  dipped  in  pagan  poison. 
JAMES.  Oh,  not  all ! 

FONSECA.     Enough  to  make  all  deadly. 
JAMES.  Beg  your  pardon  ; 


COLUMBUS.  141 

At  Naples,  Tunis,  famous  for  his  fights 

Against  the  infidel — last  year,  the  man 

Who  clampt  his  frailer  bark  against  a  huge 

Venetian  galley,  and  when  both  took  fire, 

Driven  to  the  waters,  holding  but  an  oar, 

Swam  in  to  Lisbon  ;  and  that  oar  of  his, 

All  that  he  brought  here,  may  yet  prove  to  be 

The  scepter-symbol  of  a  mightier  sway 

Than  your  King  ever  dreamed  of. 

RREO.  Ah  ! — How  so  ? 

'"ELIPA.     Yes,  yes  ! 

)IEGO.  His  plan  is  now  to  sail  around 

The  world;  and  in  the  trail  he  leaves  behind 
Loop  all  to  Portugal. 

'ELIPA.  Around  the  world? 

AMES.     Oh,  you  should  hear  him  talk! 

rONSECA.  No,  no,  should  not — 

A  mad  dog  to  be  muzzled! 

DIEGO  (to  FELIPA).  You  should  not — 

Unless  you  wish  to  think  and  feel,  and  thrill 
To  feel,  there  is  a  larger  world  than  ours. 

BREVIESCA.     In  one's  imagination. 

)IEGO.  Be  it  so. 


But  I  lack  scent  to  follow  up  your  trail. 
FONSECA.     You  know  a  priest  should  save  the  world 

from  lies  ? 
JAMES.     Have  no  scent  yet ! — am  senseless  ? 


142  COLUMBUS, 

Imagination  is  the  soul  of  thought. — 6 
Exit— Right  Center— WAITER. 
Enter — Left  Center — COLUMBUS. 
Ah,  here  he  comes  to  argue  for  himself. 

(Rising  and  extending  hand  to  COLUMBUS.) 
Good-day. 

5  BREVIESCA.     Well,  take  the  soul,  but  we  will  keep 
to  sense. 

(FONSECA  nods  at  him  approvingly.} 
DIEGO.     Humph  !  many  a  joke  would  better  not  be 
cracked. 

The  kernel 

BREVIESCA.     Is  not  entirely  to  your  taste? 
FONSECA.     Well,  well  ! — Quite  frank  for  strangers  !- 
JAMES.  Come,  come,  come. 

Enthusiasm  needs  a  margin. 
FONSECA.  But 

We  may  not  need  enthusiasm. 
JAMES.  So  ? — 

And  you  say  this  ? — a  priest  ? 

BREVIESCA.  And,  pray,  why  not? 

JAMES.     Why  not  ? — Why,  friend,  enthusiasm  is 

The  essence  of  religion 

DIEGO.  Valueless 

Without  its  uplift  and  its  oversight. 

If  these  it  lack,  it  is  a  lifeless  corpse 

Not  measured  by  its  worth  but  want  of  it. 
(to  JAMES) 

Not  true  ? 

JAMES.         I  think  your  training  has  been  good. 
DIEGO.     It  came  from  him  we  speak  of. 


COLUMBUS.  143 

COLUMBUS  (aside].     What!  you  here? 
DIEGO  (aside  to  COLUMBUS).   Yes,  but  no  one  knows. 
We  two  are  brothers.     Better  so,  perhaps. 
IOLUMBUS.     I  see — can  help  me  more. 
JAMES  (rising  and  greeting  COLUMBUS). 

The  Captain!     Welcome. 

FELIPA  (to  CORREO).  How  I  wish 

That  I  had  known  him  ! 
CORREO.  You  ? 

FELIPA.  Why,  any  man  (pointing  to  DIEGO) 

To  kindle  fire  like  that 

CORREO.  Must  have  enough 

To  keep  a  maiden  warm  and  cosy,  eh  ? — 
Think  you  that  follows  ?    I  have  known  of  men 
Whose  thought  would  flash  like  lightning,  light 
ing  up 

Half  heaven  besides  the  whole  of  earth ;  and  yet 
A  whirlwind,  did  you  trust  to  its  caress, 
Would  never  lead  you  in  a  madder  dance. 
DIEGO.     Not  true  of  him  we  speak  of. — One  less 

mad 

Does  not  exist. 

FONSECA.  Oh,  you  seem  bit  by  him  ! 

JAMES.     Come,  come,  the  church  is  wise,  perhaps, 

to  put 
Her  brake  on  wheels  that  else  might  whirl  us 

down, 
But  how  about  those  wheels  when  mounting  up  ? 

Enter — Left  Center — COLUMBUS. 
DIEGO.     Ah,  here  he  comes  to  argue  for  him 
self,  etc. 


144  COLUMBUS. 

{Introducing  COLUMBUS). 
Permit — Seniora  Correo — Seniorita 
Felipa  Perestrello — the  Archdeacon 
Fonseca,  Senior  Breviesca — Captain 
Correo — sailor  of  experience. 

{All  bow  to  COLUMBUS.) 
COLUMBUS  (to  ladies  and  CORREO).     It  gives  me  joy 

to  meet  you. 
CORREO.  Shall  we  sit? 

{All  sit  from  left  to  right  in  this  order:  COLUMBUS, 
DIEGO,  DONA  CORREO,  CORREO,  FELIPA, 
JAMES,  BREVIESCA,  and  FONSECA.) 
JAMES.     You  come  here  every  day,  I  take  it? 
COLUMBUS.  Almost. 

JAMES.     Are  making  up  for  time  you  lost  at  sea? 
COLUMBUS.   Yes,  making  up  and  mounting  up.  I  like 

The  uplift  of  the  services. 
JAMES  (to  FONSECA).     There,  there, 

Archdeacon,  one  point  scored  against  yourself! 
Dull  not  the  blade  that  carves  at  your  own  feast. 

(to  COLUMBUS  in  explanation."} 
Oh,  nothing  serious! — an  argument 
About  good  churchmen,  and  enthusiasts. 
COLUMBUS.     I  see — and  me.     Yet  men  were  told 
to  preach 

6  COLUMBUS.  So  ?— -How  ? 

DIEGO  (to  BREVIESCA),  No,  no ; 

The  world  has  had  too  many  men  like  you. 


COLUMBUS.  145 

The  truth  to  all  the  world. 

(to  FONSECA.) 

You  think  it  done? 

No,  no;  I  am  no  mere  enthusiast. 
(BREVIESCA.     And  yet  would   sail  across  the  un 
known  sea. 

;COLUMBUS.     I  would. 
<BREVIESCA.  But  that — 

[COLUMBUS.  I  have  good  reasons  for. 

FONSECA.    And  where,  pray,  do  you  find  them  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Everywhere — 

Without  a  single  fact  against  them. 
BREVIESCA.  Ha, 

Without  a  single  fact ! 
COLUMBUS.  Well,  name  one,  then. 

BREVIESCA.    Enough  for  me,  if  one  could  cross   the 
sea, 

We  should  have  found  it  out. 
COLUMBUS.  So  ?  "—There  are  lands 

Men  have  not  known. 
FONSECA.  And  that  would  make  you  brave 

The  blazing  waves,  and  have  your  ship  burned  up  ? 
COLUMBUS.     Ten  years  ago,  the  waters  just  beyond 

Cape  Bojador  were  said  to  burn  thus  ;  now 


FONSECA.     And  well  for  its  own  good  !     If  lands 

were  there, 

The  Lord  would  let  us  know  it. 
COLUMBUS.  There  are  lands,  etc. 


146  COLUMBUS. 


Men  sail  them,  far  as  Cape  de  Vere. 
FELIPA.  Is  true. 

COLUMBUS.     And     they     return     with    branches, 
leaves  and  flowers 

That  float  from  further  west ;  and  you  have  read 

The  ancients? 
BREVIESCA.         Yes,  about  Atlantis,  yes; 

But  that  was  lost. — Yet  easily  found,  you  think,  i 

I  grant  it — found  by  sinking. 
FONSECA.  Ha,  well  said! 

COLUMBUS.     Oh,  there  are  other  tales!     Late  trav-j 
elers  too, 

Like  Marco  Polo  and  John  Mandeville 

FONSECA.     Now,  pardon  me;   but  stick,  man,  toj 
your  text. 

It  was  of  facts  that  you  began  to  speak 

COLUMBUS.     And  that  which  gives  them  value. 
BREVIESCA.  Fancies,  eh 

COLUMBUS.     Not  fact-full  only,  but  a  mind  that  yo 

Deem  fanciful,  is  needed,  would  a  man 

Put  this  and  that  together,  and  build  up 

The  only  structure  that  can  make  his  facts 

Worth  knowing. 

7  You  have  some  sense. 
CORREO  (aside  to  JAMES).     The  Prince  believes  in  him 
JAMES.     If  not  in  him,  at  least  in  enterprise. 
COLUMBUS  (to  JAMES).     Is  just  the  meeting  I  had 
prayed  to  have. 

Too  good  in  you  to  further  it  ! — will  come. 


COLUMBUS.  147 

JAMES  (rising).     True  as  gospel  that !     But  now 
I  must  be  going,     (to  COLUMBUS.) 

You  will  come  with  me? — 
Another  map — I  would  explain.     Besides, 
Prince  Henry  will  be  there  to-day. 

(All  rise). 
BREVIESCA  (to  COLUMBUS).     And  he 

Would  let  you  sail  your  ship  up  to  the  moon, 
Were  he  not  in  it. 

rFoNSECA  (to  BREVIESCA).    Good  !  I  like  you,  man.7 
CORREO  (to  COLUMBUS).     And  we  shall  see  you  soon 

at  our  home  too  ? 
BREVIESCA  (aside).     At  their   home — what?   that 

madman,  and  not  me  ? 
COLUMBUS  (to  CORREO).     I  keep  quite  busy  and 

have  little  time 

FELIPA  (to  COLUMBUS).     But  we  have  maps  my 

father  made  ;  and  these 
You  might  find  helpful. 

COLUMBUS  (/b  FELIPA).    Thank  you.     I  will  come.8 
CURTAIN. 


8  FELIPA  and  DONA  CORREO.    Good-day. 
COLUMBUS  and  JAMES  exchange  bows  with  all.) 

Exeunt— Left—  COLUMBUS  and  JAMES. 
CORREO  (to  FELIPA  and  DONA  CORREO).     But  we 
too  must  be  going. 


148  COLUMBUS. 

They  bow  to  those  that  are  left  on  stage.     Exeunt 
—Right — CORREO,  FELIPA,  and  DONA  COR- 
REO,  followed  by  FONSECA. 
DIEGO  (to  BREVIESCA).     Ah,  Senior  Breviesca,  even 

here 

Enthusiasm  has  been  king  to-day  ; — 
Within  a  single  hour  thrown  wide  apart 
The  palace  bars,  and  parlor  doors  that  guard 
The  prettiest  girl  in  Portugal. 
BREVIESCA.  Oh,  yes ! 

But  wait  you  till  the  end  come. 
DIEGO.  In  the  end 

As  the  beginning,  nothing  thrives  but  spirit. 
If  trusted,  it  survives  too,  every  time. 

A  prince 

BREVIESCA.        Is  mortal 

DIEGO.  Is  a  lord  of  earth  ; 

And  on  the  earth  he  sometimes  has  the  power 
To  make  a  man  immortal. 
BREVIESCA.  Humph  !     How  strange 

You  like  that  egotist — insufferable  ! 
DIEGO.     Why,  no.     The  insufferable  is  you — 
I  mean  to  him.     He  dreams  of  destiny, 
His  whole  soul  in  his  work.     That  soul  speaks 

out 

And  like  a  sovereign.     Souls  are  sovereign  always. 
BREVIESCA.     One's  destiny,  you  think,  is  made  by 

talk? 

DIEGO.     One's  destiny  was  never  yet  fulfilled 
By  one  whose  coward  conscience  dared  not  give 
Expression  to  the  spirit  that  inspired  it. 
Exeunt — Right — BREVIESCA  and  DIEGO. 


COLUMBUS.  149 

SCENE  SECOND. — Parlor  in  the  house  of  DONA  COR- 
REO  and  FELIPA  at  Lisbon.  A  deaf  elderly  Chape 
ron  and  FELIPA  sit  working  in  the  rear.  Entrances 
at  Right  and  Left? 


9  Enter — Right—  DONA  CORREO  in  outdoor  dress   as 

in  last  Act. 

FELIPA.     I  feared  that  we  should  not  be  back. 
Our  Captain 

Columbus  will  be  here  to-day.     They  say 

No  doubt  that  he  will  get  the  ships. 
D.  CORREO.  I  doubt  it. 

FELIPA.     Prince  Henry  promised  him 

D.  CORREO.  The  Prince  is  ill. 

Yet,  could  I,  I  would  like  to  stay  with  you. 

Give  my  excuses,  please — ay,  ay,  and  yours.— 

Breviesca  too  is  coming. 
FELIPA.  That  man,  humph  3 

D.  CORREO.     We  all  accept  the  suit. 
FELIPA.  Except  the  one 

That  should  be  suited. 
D.  CORREO,  Whom  we  all  so  trust, 

We  trust  her  wisdom  also. 

(Kissing  FELIPA.) 

With  the  Captain 

Be  not  too  cordial. 

FELIPA.  Not  too  cordial  ? 

D.  CORREO.  No. 

Cordialities  that  make  the  backward  friends 

But  tempt  the  forward  to  presumption.     Force> 

Alive  to  clear  its  own  approaches,  flouts 

A  welcome  meant  for  weakness. 


150  COLUMBUS. 

Enter — Right — COLUMBUS  carrying  a  roll  of  maps. 

(FELIPA  looks  toward  her  Chaperon.) 
How  fortunate  my  Chaperon  is  deaf! 
(to  COLUMBUS)  Good-day  to  you. 
COLUMBUS.  Good-day:  was  good  enough 

For  me  before  you  called  it  so. 
FELIPA.  With  all 

Your    disappointments?  —  It    is    true!       Prince 

Henry 

COLUMBUS.       Has  promised  all  I  wish.       I  shall 

succeed. 

(They  sit  together  on  sofa,  while  COLUMBUS  hands 
her  the  maps.) 


FELIPA.  He  is  forward  ? 

D.  CORREO.     A  civil  man  enough  !     But  then  they 

say 

FELIPA.     The  one  that  everybody's  bid  can  bind 

Is  everybody's  bondsman. 
D.  CORREO.  But  I  know 

The  neighbors 

FELIPA.  And  I  know  myself.     The  wise 

Make  self  the  mistress  of  their  choice,  I  think. 
D.  CORREO.     Now,  now,  fair  play  !     Fair  play  in 
argument, 

Will  catch  our  thoughts  before  it  throws  them 
back. 

They  call  him  flighty. 
FELIPA.  So  are  birds — and  so 

Are — angels 

D.  CORREO.  What  ? 


COLUMBUS.  151 

FELIPA.     Thank  God! 

COLUMBUS.     Ay,  ay!     Oh,  I  have  sailed  in  nights, 
Dark  nights,  and  prayed  to  heaven  for  one  small 

star 
To  guide  me.     Now  it  sends  the  Prince  and  you. 

FELIPA  (unrolling  the  maps  and  looking  at  one. ) 
You  do  me  too  much  honor. 

COLUMBUS.  Could  I?     Nay; 

A  soul  that  summons  all  that  does  one's  best 
To  do  still  better,  sits  upon  a  throne 
Than  which  none  higher  is  conceivable. 

FELIPA.     I  was  not  conscious 


FELIPA.  And  every  kind  of  life 

Above  the  common. 
D.  CORREO.  Why,  my  girl ! 

One  might  suppose 

(Looking  toward  window  at  Right?) 

But  see  !     He  comes.     I  go. 
Be  on  your  guard  and  think.     Good-bye. 

(Kissing  her.'} 

Exit — Left — DONA  CORREO. 

FELIPA  (to  herself}.  And  think  ?— 

I  need  that  caution  ? — when  this  beaker  all 

(Placing  her  hand  on  her  heart.} 
Is  brimming  to  its  overflow? — And  think? — 
When  every  thought  is  radiant  with  his  form 
Like  surging  sea- waves  glancing  back  the  sun  ? — 

Enter — Right — COLUMBUS  carrying  a  roll  of  maps. 


152  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.  Nay,  nor  is  a  child 

Of  aught  in  her  of  movement  or  of  form, 

That,  fitting  sweet  ideals  of  loveliness, 

Makes  fancied  grace  and  beauty  visible. 
FELIPA  (looking  down  at  the  map].     And  yet,  I  had 

not   thought   my  father's  maps 

COLUMBUS.     Ay,  they  confirm   twice   over  all  my 
plan — 

Not  they  alone,  but  your  directions  with  them. 
FELIPA.     Mine  ?     (Sitting  with   one  hand  resting  on 

the  map) 
COLUMBUS.   Yes,  your  fingers  pointing  out  the  course. 

It  all  is  there,  just  there  beneath  your  hand. 

A  sailor  steers  the  way  his  compass  points. 
FELIPA.     (Looking  down  at  her  hand  on  the  map). 

Is  that  your  compass  ? 
COLUMBUS.  It  might  compass  me — 

I  mean  my  soul. 
FELIPA.  That  little  hand  ?     Oh,  what 

A  little  soul ! 
COLUMBUS.         Do  souls  have  size  ?     One  might 

Be  universed  in  this  ;  yet  not  contained 
(Pointing  to  her  hand.) 

In  all  the  universe  outside  of  it. 
FELIPA.     To  put  your  soul  thus  in  another's  hand, — 

Would  that  be  wise  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Why  not  ? — the  hand  that  serves 

The  soul  one  loves  may  serve  but  selfishly, 

And  yet  serve  best  the  one  who  trusts  to  it. 
FELIPA.     But  should  it  fetter  him  ? — 


COLUMBUS.  153 

COLUMBUS.  Then  would  he  thrill 

In  every  atom  of  his  frame  to  feel 

Its  fingers'  throb  and  pressure. 
FELIPA.  Would  not   bound 

Away  ? 
COLUMBUS.     Away  and  up,  but  always  back  again, 

Like  grains  of  sand  in  earthquakes. 
FELIPA.  Foolish  man  ! 

COLUMBUS.     Why,  only  God  is  wholly  wise  ;  and  I 

Am  but  a  man — so  never  quite  so  manly 

As  when — why,  say — made  foolish. 
FELIPA  (rising,  as  does  also  COLUMBUS). 

Some  one  comes, 

Enter — Right — a  SERVANT,  bringing  a  note. 
FELIPA.     A  note  for  me — from  whom  ? — 
(Opening  and  reading  the  note.) 

Exit — Right — SERVANT. 

Can  this  be  true  ? 

Bad  news  for  us  !     Oh  very,  very  bad  ! — 
The  Prince  is  dead. 

COLUMBUS.          Prince  Henry  ?     What  ? — No,  no  ! 
FELIPA.     It  must  be  so.     You  see  who  sent  it — look. 

(Handing  the  note  to  COLUMBUS,  who  reads  it.) 
COLUMBUS.     Impossible  !     Heaven  cannot  be  mali 
cious. 

What  ?  build  so  high  a  structure  for  my  hope, 
Then  knock  the  prop  from  under  ?     All,  all  gone  ? 
FELIPA.     There  may  be  others. 
COLUMBUS.  May  be  ? — There  are  none. 


154  COLUMBUS. 

FELIPA.     But  you  have  me  still. 

COLUMBUS.  That  is  it.     We  must 

Forget  all  this — at  least  for  years  and  years. — 

Oh,  I  know  what  it  means! — have  seen  years  like 

them. 

FELIPA.     Forget  all  this? 
COLUMBUS.  You  do  not  understand. 

Prince  Henry  was  my  patron.     Backed  by  him, 

Success  was  possible ;  I  felt  I  trod 

An  equal  plane  with  others  of  your  suitors. 

I  now  am  worse  off  than  a  beggar. 
FELIPA.  No! 

You  have  your  pencil — still  can  draw 

COLUMBUS.  Yet  not 

The  outlines  I  had  hoped — of  that  new  land, 

And  you,  its  princess.     No;  there  looms  a  face 

With  more  care-lines  upon  its  wrinkled  brow 

Than  e'er  I  blacked  a  map  with. 
FELIPA.  There  are  ships 

That  still  need  captains. 
COLUMBUS.  Could  one  see  their  sails 

Like  arms,  white-surpliced,  praying  heaven  for 
wind, 

10  FELIPA.     But  you  can  wait — you  are  so  strong  ! — 

can  wait 

COLUMBUS.     I  can — but  you — when  lit  by  hope, 

rebuffs 

Are  merely  clouds  aglow  where  dawn  brings  light 
But  when  no  ray  of  hope  is  visible, 
The  dark  seems  full  damnation. 


COLUMBUS.  155 

Yet  keep  his  prow  still  turned  away  from  that 
Which  he  had  vowed  to  heaven  that  he  would 
seek  ? 10 

FELIPA.     Why 

COLUMBUS.         No,  deny  it  not.     I  know  it,  feel  it. 
Your  mother,  sister,  brother — yes,  I  grant 
They  tolerate  me ;  but  when  patronless 
And  penniless,  it  were  a  different  tale. 
rELipA.     Nay,   nay;    that  cannot  be!      But  they 

with  me 
Will  feel  how  noble  is  a  man  like  you 

COLUMBUS.     A  pauper  and  fanatic 

FELIPA.  No,  a  man 

Who,  all  alone,  can  stand  with  but  one  friend, 
His  own  brave  soul,  and  trample  underfoot 
A  hissing  world  that,  coiling  like  a  snake, 
Would  clutch  him  to  its  clod  and  hold  him  there. 

COLUMBUS.     Too  much!     To-day  you  think  it,  but 
to-morrow — 

Next  year — in  ten  years No,  I  have  no  right 

To  put  you  to  the  test.     No,  let  me  go — 
Farewell. 


FELIPA.  You  say  this? — 

I  thought 

COLUMBUS.        Oh,  I ! — yes,  I  can  wait  forever. 
The  light  is  in  me.     But  could  you  see  through 
These  forms  that  cloak  it,  worse  than  worst  of  rags; 
Discourtesy,  suspicion,  and  contempt 
Of  those  who  know  Columbus  as  the  fool  ? 


156  COLUMBUS. 

FELIPA.     Will  you  fare  quite  as  well  without  me? 
COLUMBUS.     Felipa,  nay,  it  cannot  be. 
FELIPA.  You  think 

A  woman's  heart,  if  tested  through  long  years, 
With  burdening  love  would  break?     You  think  it 

kinder 

To  break  it  at  the  start? 

Enter — Right — BREVIESCA  shown  in  by  a  SERVANT. 

COLUMBUS  (not  observing  BREVIESCA).    Felipa,  no — 

A  faith  like  yours — my  God,  what  shall  I  do? 

I  would  not  harm  you,  yet  have  done  the  harm. 

BREVIESCA   (sarcastically  to  the  two].     Ah,  so! — I 

see  I  come  too  late — 
FELIPA  (aside,  anxiously  to  COLUMBUS).     Except 

For  one  thing! 

COLUMBUS  (to  BREVIESCA).    Yes — we  are  betrothed. 
Exit,  with  sarcastic  bow — Right — BREVIESCA. 
Exeunt — Left — FELIPA  and  COLUMBUS. 


SCENE  THIRD. —  Working  room  in  the  house  0/"CoLUM- 
BUS.     Maps  and  charts,  hanging  on  the  walls,  and 


11  WOMAN.     Is  he  at  home  ? 
MAID.  Not  now. 

WOMAN.  What  seems  he  doing? 

MAID.     Oh,  just  the  same  as  ever  ! 
WOMAN.  Nothing,  eh  ? 

( To  the  other  Women,  who  have  remained  near  the  door? 


COLUMBUS.  157 

lying  on  a  large  table  at  Back  Center  ;  also  books, 
instruments  for  navigation,  and  implements  for  meas 
uring  and  drawing.  Window  at  Right.  En 
trances  at  Right  Side  Rear  and  Left  Side. 
The  curtain  rises  disclosing  a  MAID  and  WOMEN, 
the  latter  are  handling  charts  and  implements 

on  the  table.)11 
MAID.     You  really  should  not  touch  them. 
WOMAN.  No?     Why  not? 

MAID.     He  would  not  like  it. 

WOMAN.  Oh,  of  course  not!  but 

He  need  not  know  it;  need  he? — 
(Pointing  to  a  chart. ) 

What  a  blotch! 
MAID.     A  chart,  you  know. 

WOMAN.  A  chart? — A  chart  of  what? 

I  never  saw  a  chart  like  that— looks  like 
A  crazy  quilt.     And  so  he  wastes  his  time 
On  things  like  these  ? — Felipa  dying  too  ! ia 
(  Taking  up  a  sharp  instrument. ) 


Come  in.     (to  MAID) 

We  thought  that  we  should  like  to  see etc. 

12  No  wonder  ! — Think  of  it  !— Ten  mortal  years 
Of  this,  and  no  one  knows  what  more.     At  night, 
I  would  not  dare  to  stay  alone  with  him, 
Would  you  ? — say,  would  you  ? 

MAID.  Why  !    I — no — he  never 


158  COLUMBUS. 

Not  safe  in  hands  like  his! 

(Knocking  at  the  door  at  the  Right.) 

Hark!     What  is  that? 
Can  it  be  he?     Say,  you  can  let  us  out 

(Starting  for  Left. ) 
The  other  door,  not  so? 
MAID.  No  need  of  that! 

Is  no  one  but  the  tailor. 
WOMAN.  Sure  of  it? 

(Crossing  room  and  looking  out  window  at  Right.)  13 
(Opening  door  at  Right  and  leaving  it  open.) 

Enter— Right—  Tailor. 
MAID  (to  TAILOR).     Is  out. 

TAILOR.  Oh,  yes,  I  know — is  always  out — 

Out  of  his  head  at  least.     Were  he  but  out 
My  clothes,  it  would  be  better. — Left  no  word  ? 


WOMAN.     Of  course  not.     You  would  be  afraid, 

of  course. 

I  had  a  cousin  once  who  went  insane, 
And  all  his  family  had  to  play  insane 
To  keep  him  company.     The  sport  was  royal 
Till,  sure  that  he  was  royal  and  they  slaves, 
He  ordered  off  their  heads. 

MAID.  And  then  ? 

WOMAN.  And  then 

They  left  off  playing,  and  made  war  on  him  ; 
And  so  dethroned  him.     They  should  do  so  here  ; 
The  sooner,  too,  the  better  !     Look  at  this  : 


COLUMBUS.  159 

MAID.     He    bade    me   say    that  he   expects   the 

king 

TAILOR.     If  all  the  kings  that  are  expected  came, 

Few  would  be  left  for  subjects.14 
MAID.  He  expects 

Enter — Right  Side — suddenly,  the  GROCER. 

GROCER.     Tell  him  his  expectations  are  too  old. 
Fresh  epectations,  like  fresh  eggs,  may  hatch. 
Not  so  with  stale  ones,  though,  however  white. 
WOMAN  (turning  from  window  at  Right,  where  she 
has  been  looking  out,  and  gazing  at  the  GROCER)  . 
The  grocer,  eh? 

{Speaking  to  the  other  women.) 

And  all  the  family 

Are  coming — and  the  Captain  too.     I  saw  them. — 
Will    be   a   scene   here.      I    prefer    the    back 
ground. 


13  MAID.     Comes  every  day. 

WOMAN.  What  for? 

MAID.  To  bid  us  think 

Of  Adam's  fall  that  made  men  civilized, 
Wear  clothes,  and  bear  the  curse  of  paying  for 
them. 

14 1  will  strip 

And  cage  his  bareness  for  a  jail-show.     Ugh  t 
MAID.     But,  really,  he  is  honest.     He  expects 


l6o  COLUMBUS. 

Exit — Left — WOMAN,  followed by  the  other  WOMEN." 
GROCER  (to  MAID,  and  holding  a  paper  toward  her}- 

I  cannot  fill  this  order. 
MAID.  But  you  must. 

His  wife  is  needing  it. 
GROCER.  But  I  myself 

Cannot  afford  a  wife 

TAILOR.  When  keeping  his. 

Enter — Right — DONA  CORREO  and  CORREO  pushing 
FELIPA  in  a  chair  upon  wheels. 

MAID  (to  GROCER). 

His  wife  is  ill.     You  would  not  let  her  die? 
GROCER.     Not   I,   but   he;    and   there   are   other 

shops 

MAID.     But  we  have  tried  them  all. 

GROCER,  Then  try  the  jail 

They  feed  men  there — or  let  him  sell — 
DONA  CORREO  (bowing  to  GROCER).     You  say  ? 
GROCER    {pointing  toward  charts  and  implements  on 
table}.     He  ought  to  sell  these  things  and  pay 
us  off. 

15  TAILOR  (to  GROCER). 

Suppose  we  club  together — ay,  let  fly 

Our  blows  at  him  together — down  him  sooner! 

16  An  honest  man  would  sell  these  traps ;  not  let 
His  creditors  go  begging. 
GROCER.  Ay,  or  come  so. 


COLUMBUS.  l6l 

DONA  CORREO.     Not  paid  you  yet  ?     Oh,  well,  you 

may  be  right ! 
FELIPA   (to   D.     CORREO).      They   may   be   right? 

Why,  this  would  ruin  him. 
DONA  CORREO  (to  FELIPA).     Not  outside  things  that 

men  can  take  away 

Bring  ruin,  but  the  things  that  stay  within, 
Which  would  they  could  take  ! 

(To  GROCER  and  TAILOR.) 

He  himself  is  coming. 
Enter — Right — Co  LU  M  BUS. 
COLUMBUS  (to  GROCER  and  TAILOR).     You  seek 

for  me  ? 
TAILOR   (holding  his  bill  toward  COLUMBUS).      I 

brought  your  bill. 
GROCER.  And  I. 

TAILOR.     We  say  an  honest  man 

COLUMBUS   (motioning  toward  FELIPA).      But   not, 

please,  now. 
My  wife  is  ill. 
TAILOR  (jointing  toward  the  table).     We  say — your 

sister  too — ia 
COLUMBUS.     My  brothers  will  be  here  to-day. 

(appealing  to  FELIPA.) 
You  think  it  too. 

(to  COLUMBUS.)    You  see  it  in  her  face. 
TAILOR  (half  aside}.     Oh,  he  sees  nothing  !     Give 

one's  brain  a  whack. 
It  flies  from  earth  to  stars — but  all  in  here. 


1 62  COLUMBUS. 

TAILOR.  And  they? 

COLUMBUS.     Will  bring  me  proofs  of  favor  at  the 

court. 

TAILOR.     If  so? 
COLUMBUS.     Why,  they  will  bring  me  what  will  pay 

A  score  of  times  and  more  your  paltry  bills. 
GROCER  (to  TAILOR).     What  say  you  ?     Shall  we 

wait?    Fact  is,  one  finds 
It  hard  to  break  old  habits. — Shall  we,  eh? 
(TAILOR  bows  in  acquiescence.     GROCER  continues  to 

COLUMBUS.) 
But  see  we  get  what  balances  our  claim, 


{pointing  to  his  head.) 
COLUMBUS  (referring  to  implements  on  table). 

These  are  the  tools  I  work  with — all  of  them. 
GROCER.     Humph,  they  work  poorly.     Better  give 

them  up ! 

COLUMBUS.     The  king 

TAILOR.     For  ten  years  we  have  heard  of  him. 
COLUMBUS.     Your  bill  is  only  three  months  old. 
TAILOR.  Yes  ;  this  one. 

COLUMBUS.     The  present  king  has  not  been  on  the 

throne. 

But 

GROCER.     All  kings  are  the  same  to  us — as  you 
Will  find 

COLUMBUS.     You  need  but  wait 

TAILOR.  Have  learned  that  lesson. 

17  FELIPA.     But  yet  the  king  took  interest  in  his  charts, 


COLUMBUS.  163 

Or  we  shall  weigh  these  things  against  them  yet, 
(Pointing  to  the  table.} 

And  sell  them  too  by  weight. 

Exeunt — Right  Side — GROCER  and  TAILOR. 
COLUMBUS.  No  doubt  they  will. 

Too  often  in  the  judgments  of  this  world 

Worth  yields  to  weight. 
DONA  CORREO.  A  scandal  and  disgrace — 

A  scene  like  this  in  my  own  sister's  house! 

FELIPA.     Why,  sister,  when  the  king 

DONA  CORREO.  Oh,  dear,  you  know 

That  tale  is  fiction,  like  the  most  things  here.17 
FELIPA.     Oh  sister ! 

And  sent  for  them. 

DONA  CORREO.         Ay,  ay,  and  found  out  so — 
Quite  likely — that  he  cannot  draw  at  all — 
Except  from  his  own  fancy.     \Vho  wants  that  ? 
A  visionary  man  produces  visions  ; 
And  in  the  world  that  is,  men  want  what  is. 

COLUMBUS.     Why,  madam,  I  am  accurate. 

DONA  CORREO.  Perhaps. 

Who  knows  it  though?    Yourself?    If  one  besides, 
He  too  has  made  your  own  discoveries. 
And  if  no  mortal  knows  it,  all  will  judge 
By  what  they  hear.     What  do  they  hear  of  you  ? 

CORREO.     Humph,  I  can  tell. 
(to  COLUMBUS.) 

Forgive  me  ;  it  is  time 

You  knew  the  truth.     I  thought,  perhaps,  to  lease 
A  ship  that  you  could  sail, — make  money  by, 
But 


164  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS  (aside  to  CORREO).     Cruel,  talking  thus 
to  her! 

(to  FELIPA.) 

The  other  room  will  be  far  better,  dear, 
Than  this.     And  they? — they  but  exaggerate. 
They  hurt  my  feelings?  Oh,  why,  why,  why,  why, 
You  never  saw  a  fisher  catch  a  fish 
Whose  hook  would  not  get  tangled  in  the  line. 
Just  wait,  and  see  me  get  the  better  of  them. 
You  trust  in  me.     There. 

(Gesturing  to  MAID  to  wheel  FELIPA.) 

I  am  coming  soon. 

Exeunt — Left — MAID  wheeling  FELIPA  in  her  chair. 


DONA  CORREO.     Been  too  long  from  practice? 

CORREO.  No,  no  ;  worse  ! 

DONA  CORREO.     Is  but  an  idler,  as  they  think  ? 

CORREO.  Worse  yet- 

One  who  should  not  be  trusted,  sure  to  do 
The  wrong  thing  for  the  right. 

COLUMBUS.  And  you  say  that  ? 

CORREO.     Not  I,  but  those  that  give  you  reputation. 

COLUMBUS.     Am  I  to  blame  ? 

CORREO.  Who  else  is,  pray  ?    They  say 

That  you  would  sail  but  heaven  alone  knows 

where. 
And  I  confess,  I  half  believe  you  would. 

FELIPA.     Oh,  brother  !  etc. 

18  COLUMBUS.     I  think  that  you  forget.    How  many  men 


COLUMBUS.  165 

DONA  CORREO  (to  CORREO).     Yes,  yes.     The  time 
has  come  to  tell  him  truth. 

( To  COLUMBUS) 

You  think  us  cruel.     What  are  you,  yourself  ? 
(Pointing  toward  the  Left.) 

See  what  ten  years  of  this  have  made  of  her? 

I  come,  and  find  her  wanting  everything — 

Food,  physic — nearly  dying  at  your  hands. 
COLUMBUS.     Do  not  say  that. 
DONA  CORREO.  Humph!     It  is  time  I  did. 

COLUMBUS.     She  still  believes  in  me. 
DONA  CORREO.  As  infidels 

In  their  Mohammed,  and  are  cursed  for  it.18 
Knocking  at  the  Right,  COLUMBUS  opens  the  door. 


Of  humble,  foreign  birth  demand  and  get 

A  summons  to  an  audience  with  the  king  ? 

Say  that  of  such  importance  that  the  king, 

To  weigh  it,  calls  his  wisest  counselors? 

Who  argue  it  for  days,  with  some,  at  least, 

That  side  with  him  whom  you  think  stands 

alone  ? 

DONA  CORREO.     How  many  side  with  him  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Enough  to  make 

The  king  request  his  charts — the  work  of  years 

That  you  think  wasted. 
DONA  CORREO.  That  was  months  ago  ; 

And  nothing  followed. 
COLUMBUS.  There  is  too  much  life 

In  truth  of  any  sort,  when  sown,  to  doubt 


1 66  COLUMBUS. 

Enter — Right — DIEGO  and  BARTHOLOMEW. 
COLUMBUS.     My  brothers,  welcome  ! 
DIEGO  (to  COLUMBUS). 

So  to  you. 
(to  DONA  CORREO  and  CORREO.) 

And  you. 
BARTHOLOMEW.     And  all. 

(All  greet  each  other.} 

COLUMBUS  (to  DIEGO).     You  bring  me  news  ? 
DIEGO.  Ay,  by  and  by. 

{Glancing  at  DONA  C.  and  CORREO.) 
COLUMBUS  (to  DONA  C.  and  CORREO).     You  will  ex 
cuse  us  ? 
DONA  CORREO.  We  will  leave. 

Exeunt — Left — DONA  C.  and  CORREO.) 
COLUMBUS  (to  DIEGO).  This  news? 

DIEGO  (sadly).     My  brother,  can  you  bear  it? 
COLUMBUS.  I  have  borne 

With  much. 

DIEGO.  Yes,  you  have  been  misunderstood, 

Misjudged,  maligned;  but  all  were  less  than  this. 


Its  growing.     I  have  made  a  good  beginning. 
DONA  CORREO.     A  very  small  one. 
COLUMBUS.  So  a  seed  is  too, 

Whose  growth  is  great.     When  one  awaits  the 
dawn, 

A  flush  is  better  than  a  flash,  which  oft 

But  bodes  a  rush-light. 


COLUMBUS.  ify 

COLUMBUS.     How  so  ? 

BARTHOLOMEW.         The  king 

COLUMBUS.  He  has  not  sent  the  money  ? 

BARTHOLOMEW.     The  money  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Yes,  his  agent  promised  it. 

BARTHOLOMEW.     We  had  not  thought  you  cared  so 
much  for  that. 

COLUMBUS.     Not  I,  but  these — my  wife,  my  family. 
The  king  sent  here  requesting  all  details. 
It  took  me  weeks  to  draft  them,  had  to  turn 
My  methods  upside  down  and  inside  out, 
And  mass  and  multiply  and  magnify, 
Till  truth  was  large  enough  for  all  to  see  it. 
Meantime,  what  gaze  had  I  to  fix  upon 
My  earnings  ?     They  all  fled,  and  now 

DIEGO.  I  see. 

No  watch-dog  keeps  a  creditor  at  bay 
Like  well-housed  earnings. — But  we  heard  no 

talk 
Of  pay. 

COLUMBUS.     When    it    was    clearly   promised  ? — 
what?19 

Enter — Right — DIEGO  and  BARTHOLOMEW,  to  whom  COLUM 
BUS  now  turns. 

Ah,  they  come  at  last ! 

My  brothers,  welcome  !  etc. 

19  Then  I,  who  trusted  in  the  royal  word 
And  gave  it  currency,  am  made  for  this 
A  charlatan  who  trades  upon  a  cheat  ? 


1 68  COLUMBUS. 

DIEGO.     And  worse.     He  holds  your  charts. 
COLUMBUS.  He  keeps  them? — Why — 

With  truth,  the  longer  kept,  the  longer  thought  of; 

And  thinking  feeds  conviction.     On  my  soul, 

The  king  will  let  me  sail  yet.     You  shall  see. 
BARTHOLOMEW.     Oh  no,  not  you! 
COLUMBUS.  Not  me,  not  me? — and  why? 

DIEGO.     My  brother,  all  your  draughts,  your  work 
for  years 

Rest  like  a  charter  in  another's  hands. 

That  other  is  the  pilot  of  a  ship 

Now  sailing  west;  and  his  head  is  decreed 

To  wear  the  wreath  for  what  your  own  conceived. 
COLUMBUS.     Impossible. 
DIEGO.  I  tell  the  truth. 

COLUMBUS.  His  name? 

DIEGO.     A  secret — but  no  cowardly  soul  like  his 

Will  ever  cross  the  sea. 
COLUMBUS.  I  could  prefer 

He  should,  than  by  a  failure  earn  my  scheme 

Discredit. 

DIEGO.         Which  he  surely  will. 
COLUMBUS.  Too  true  ! ao 

What  reasons  could  they  have  ? 
DIEGO.  Enough  of  them 

In  such  a  world! — You,  you  have  genius,  brains; 

20  DIEGO.     Oh,  curse  the  king  ! 

COLUMBUS.  But  could  you  have  conceived 


COLUMBUS.  169 

And  those   without  them   must  get   even   with 

you, 

If  not  by  higher  then  by  lower  means. 
You  are  original  and  they  derived; 
And  thought  full-centered  in  itself,  owns  not 
A  parentage  that  puts  another  first. 
And  you  are  foreign,  they  are  Portuguese. 
COLUMBUS.     But  such  dishonor  in  a  king! 
DIEGO.  Why  not? 

A  king  is  human;  place  is  relative; 
Down  honor,  and  you  boost  dishonor  up. 
Make  men  in  common  kneel,  and  common  men 
Stand  up  like  giants.     Banish  out  of  sight 
The  bright  minds,  and  the  dull  ones  beam  like 

beacons. 
(A  knocking  is  heard  at  the  Right  Side  Entrance.} 

Enter— Left— the  MAID. 
MAID.     My  master? 
COLUMBUS  (to  MAID).     Well? 
MAID.  Your  wife  desires  to  see  you. 

COLUMBUS.     I  come;  but  there  is  knocking  at  the 
door. 

Exit— Right—  M  AID  . 
(COLUMBUS  continues  to  his  brothers} 
If  she  were  not  so  ill  now,  I  should  leave 
This  Portugal  forever. 

Such  baseness  ? 
DIEGO.  Why  ask  me  ?    Am  I  the  devil  ? 


I/O  COLUMBUS. 

BARTHOLOMEW.  Yes;  you  should. 

COLUMBUS.    There  certainly  is  elsewhere  enterprise 
With  honesty.     I  think  that  I  should  try 
The  court  of  England.  You  have  seen  their  men : — 
White  skinned,  the  spirit  just  behind  the  face, 
Their  very  faults  the  proof  they  are  not  false; 
Too  impudent  for  truthlessness,  too  bold 
To  stab  behind  one's  back,  too  proud  of  push 
To  trip  with  little  tricks,  too  fond  of  sport 
To  keep  one  down,  when  down. 

BARTHOLOMEW.  Why,  I  might  go  there. 

COLUMBUS.     You  might  and  would,  Bartholomew? 

BARTHOLOMEW.  I  will. 

Enter — Right — MAID. 

COLUMBUS  (to  MAID).     A  visitor? 

MAID.  A  message  from  the  king. 

DIEGO.     We   thought   it   coming.     Now   you   are 
prepared. 

COLUMBUS.     My  soul  demands  in  one  whom  I  obey 
A  moral  equal,  at  the  least.     It  comes 
In  vain. 

(To  MAID.) 
And  messengers  ? 

MAID.  Yes. 

COLUMBUS.  Show  them  in. 

Exit — Right — MAID.     The  eyes  of  COLUMBUS 

21  COLUMBUS.     With  what  intent  ? 

BREVIESCA.  To  satisfy  you 

COLUMBUS.  Me 

Why,  I  am  satisfied  remaining  here. 


COLUMBUS.  I/I 

follow  her,  and  look  through  the  door,  which 

she  leaves  ajar. 

Breviesca  ?     He  alone  makes  both  of  them 
Birds  of  most  evil  omen. 

Enter — Right — BREVIESCA    and   another    man,    at 
tended  by  MAID,  who  exits  at  Left.     All  bow. 

Gentlemen  ? — 
And  will  you  sit  ? 

BREVIESCA.  I  thank  you,  no.     The  king 

Sends  here  requesting  you  to  visit  him. 

COLUMBUS     Requesting  me  to  visit  him  ?    For  what  ? 

BREVIESCA.     Your  charts. — He  would  examine  them 
with  you.21 

COLUMBUS.     He  sends  me  then  the  means  with 
which  to  go  ? 

BREVIESCA.     How  so  ? 

COLUMBUS.  The  money  ?  or  conveyance  ? 

BREVIESCA.  What  ? 

COLUMBUS.     I  need  the  one  or  other. 

DIEGO.  Certainly. 

BREVIESCA.     But  when  the  king  demands 

COLUMBUS  (in  a  hesitating  way). 

He  promised  me 
A  sum  of  money  for  my  charts.     He  must 


BREVIESCA.     But  he  demands  your  presence. 
COLUMBUS.  He  demands  ? 

Ah,  not  for  my  sake, — but  for  his,  you  come. 

He  sends  me  then,  etc. 


172  COLUMBUS. 

BREVIESCA.     You  dare  dispute  the  royal  will  ? 
COLUMBUS.  I  dare 

Do  nothing  to  impugn  the  royal  honor. 

Enter — Left — MAID,  evidently  in  distress. 

MAID.     My  master  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Why,  what  is  it  ? 

MAID.  She — seems — dying. 

COLUMBUS.     What,  what  ?  my  wife  ? 

{Starts  for  the  door — Left — BREVIESCA  makes  a 

gesture  of  disapproval^) 

BREVIESCA.  Give  us  your  answer  first. 

COLUMBUS.     You  press  this  now  ? 
BREVIESCA.  We  represent  the  king. 

Do  you  forget  that  he  must  be  supreme  ? 
COLUMBUS.     I  do  in  presence  of  a  Higher  King. 
Oh,  what  has  happened  ? 

Exeunt — Left — COLUMBUS  and  the  MAID. 

BREVIESCA.  What  we  shall  report.22 

CURTAIN.     END  OF  ACT  I. 


22  Exeunt — Right — BREVIESCA  and  other  man. 
DIEGO  {pointing  toward  Left). 

If  she  be  flown,  I  fear  we  all  must  fly. 
BARTHOLOMEW.     But  why  should  he  so  suffer  ! — I 
half  think 

In  truth  to  spirit  there  is  that  which  makes 

All  earth  its  enemy. 
DIEGO.  Yet  conquers  it. 


COLUMBUS.  173 


ACT  SECOND. 

SCENE  FIRST  : — A  Spanish  camp  by  night,  illumed  by 
distant  red  camp-fires.  Backing  at  the  Left  a  royal 
tent  with  curtains  before  its  entrance.  To  the  sides 
at  right  of  stage,  connecting  with  Right  Side  Second 
Entrance,  the  tent  of  COLUMBUS,  its  curtains  drawn 
aside  revealing  a  cot  or  lounge  on  which  two  or  more 
can  sit,  also  a  chair  or  two.  Just  outside  the  same 
tent  on  the  side  toward  the  center  of  stage,  a  log  on 
which  two  or  more  can  sit.  To  the  sides  at  Left  of 
stage,  trees.  Entrances  at  the  Left  Center  through 
the  royal  tent ;  at  the  Right  Side  Rear,  behind  the 
tent  of  COLUMBUS  /  at  the  Right  Side  through  his 
tent;  at  the  Right  Side  Front,  between  it  and  the 
audience;  and  at  the  Left  Side,  Rear  and  Front 
through  trees. 

Enter — Left — a  MOOR. 

MOOR.     Darkness  for  deeds  of  darkness !     Thank 

the  stars, 

I  well  nigh  touch  the  queen's  pavilion;  yet 
In  all  this  Christian  camp,  blood-red  as  life, 
Not  one  suspects  the  Moor — this  heathen  worm 
Who  wriggles  toward  its  core.  Her  tent ! — steal  in! 

[Addressing  his  steel  dirk  as  he  looks  at  it,  then  lifts 

it  upward. ) 
Be  that  my  motto:  Steel  in,  till  you  start. 


174  COLUMBUS. 

The  spirit  of  the  queen,  steel  it  away. 
Hark ! — some  one  comes  here.  Let  me  hide. — Aha! 
(Looks  around,  then  apparently  hides  himself 
in  the  folds  of  the  canvas  at  the  Back  Side 
of  the  tent  of  COLUMBUS.) 

Convenient  folds  these  ! — Thank   you,  Christian 
friends. 

Exit    the    MOOR — Right — behind    the    tent    of 
COLUMBUS. 

Enter — Right — through  this  tent,  DIEGO  and  COLUM 
BUS,  dressed  as  a  soldier. 
(The  two  are  at  first  inside  the  tent;  but,  as 
they  talk,  they  gradually  come  out  onto  the 
stage  in  front  of  it.) 

COLUMBUS.     Have  heard  from  England  and  Bar 
tholomew? 
DIEGO.     I  have. 
COLUMBUS.         He  had  success? 
DIEGO.  They  thought  us  fools. 

And  how  fared  you  in  Genoa  and  Venice? 
COLUMBUS.     They  knew  we  were." 
DIEGO.  Then  we  must  give  it  up  # 

COLUMBUS.     My  voyage  ? 
DIEGO.  Yes. 

98 1  half  believe  that  flight 
Was  all  that  saved  me  from  a  mad-house.     Oh, 
The  world  plays  tyrant  to  the  soul  would  serve  it. 
It  treats  him  like  a  female  relative 


COLUMBUS.  175 

COLUMBUS.  Not  till  I  die;  and  that 

I  will  do  soon  as  hope  dies  out  of  me. 
DIEGO.     You  have  enlisted? 
COLUMBUS.  It  will  help  me  on. 

Men  judge  of  us  by  standards  in  themselves; 
And  so  like  us  when  they  see  us  like  them. 
Kings  take  to  tales,   too,  writ  with  points  like 
this — 

(Pointing,  with  a  gesture,  to  his  sword. ) 
To  underscore  "your  humble  servant"  when 
He  signs  requests. 

Enter — Left  Side — at  the  Rear  two  young 
OFFICERS.  They  stand  looking  at  CO 
LUMBUS  and  DIEGO,  making  signs  to  in 
dicate  that  they  consider  COLUMBUS  out  of 
his  mind.  COLUMBUS  notices  them. 
DIEGO.  And  have  you  met  the  king? 

COLUMBUS.     Am  waiting  for  a  chance 

DIEGO.  It  promises? 

What  seem  your  prospects? 
COLUMBUS  (pointing  to  the  officers]. 

Watch  those  men  and  see. 

We  ape  sign-language  here.     Theirs  means  "Co 
lumbus." 


Whose  drudgery  is  deemed  supremely  paid 
By  her  own  love.     But  when  the  wage  one  wants 
Is  not  within  one,  love  is  never  paid. 
DIEGO.     Yes,  yes  ;  I  fear  that  we  must  give  it  up,  etc. 


176  COLUMBUS. 

The  women,  children,  all  have  learned  it,  too. 

And  point  it  now  and  then  with  exclamations. 
DIEGO  (glancing  angrily  at  the  men).    Outrageous  !  I 

will  stop  them. 

COLUMBUS  (staying  him  with  his  hand).     Why,  what 
use? 

Far  better  have  men  point  at  us  and  laugh, 

Than  never  have  them  point  to  us  at  all. 
DIEGO.     Do  you  say  this,  who  were  so  sensitive, 

High-spirited  ? 

(The  Officers  cross  the  stage  and  Exeunt  at  the 
Right  Rear?) 

COLUMBUS.  One  may  have  so  much  sense 

It  holds  the  spirit  down.     Besides,  our  spheres 
Are  stagnant  and  need  movement.     Make  men 

take 

You  gravely  if  you  can  ;  if  not,  what  though 
They  laugh?     You  move  them  that  way.     There 

are  times 

The  tiniest  tinkling  that  can  tap  the  air 
Rings  up  life's  curtain  for  its  grandest  act. 

84  To  appease  what  he  esteems  as  God. 

DIEGO.  How  so? 

COLUMBUS.     A  woman  craves  attention  and  a  home. 
Her  lover's  mission,  let  it  oft  withdraw 
His  ear  or  sphere  from  her,  seems  then  her  rival. 

DIEGO.     It  would  not,  did  she  love  the  man's  true 
self. 


COLUMBUS  177 

DIEGO.     You  talk  as  if  all  friends  were  lost. 

COLUMBUS.  Nay,  light, 

It  trails  the  shadow.  It  is  those  with  friends 
Are  sure  of  foes ;  and  only  those  with  neither 
Are  sure  of  neither. 

DIEGO.  Then  you  have  friends? 

COLUMBUS.  Yes. 

DIEGO.     What  class  of  people? 

COLUMBUS.  Oh,  both  Dukes  and  Dons ; 

And,  to  make  life  complete,  at  least  one  woman. 

DIEGO.     Aha ! 

"OLUMBUS.     The  image  of  my  lost  Felipa. 

DIEGO.     You  mean  to  marry  her? 

"OLUMBUS.  Had  I  the  wish 

I  could  not  have  the  will.     Her  family 
Are  not  agreeable 

DIEGO.  To  you  ? 

"OLUMBUS.  To  her, 

When  seen  with  me  ;  and — well ! — enough 
For  one  man  to  have  sacrificed  one  woman.24 
This  one  is  but  a  sister,  name  more  sacred 


COLUMBUS.     Mayhap,  and  yet  the  kinds  of  love  men 

feel 

For  mistress  and  for  mission  are  so  like  ! 

What,  if  behind  the  mission's  love  should  be 
Some  sentient  spirit  too  in  realms  unseen  ? 
These  women  may  be  right.     They  may  have 

rivals. 


fit..    . H(I 


1 78  COLUMBUS. 

Than  wife,  I  think,  as  wives  go  now. 
DIEGO.  She  thinks 

This  too? 

COLUMBUS.         She  should,  and  you  ? 
DIEGO.  I  think,  perhaps, 

You  ought  to  marry  her.25 

Enter — Left  Side  Front — the  MONK,  JUAN, 
PEREZ,  another   MONK,  and  the  officer 
SANCHEZ. 
COLUMBUS  (looking  toward  the  MONK).     Why,  who 

are  these  ? 

PEREZ  (to  COLUMBUS). 
God  greet  you  friends. 


But  what  Felipa  felt  I  could  not  help. 

Yet  may  avoid  its  repetition. 
DIEGO  (doubtfully).  Humph ! 

COLUMBUS.     This  one  is  but  a  sister,  etc. 

25  COLUMBUS.     No  !     I  have  vowed 

Religiously — 
DIEGO.  And  might  not  be  the  first 

Religion  led  astray. 
COLUMBUS.        Astray  !  how  so  ? 
DIEGO.     A  brotherly  or  sisterly  regard 

Grows  up  from  family  relationship. 

Train  boys  and  girls  together,  side  by  side, 

As  in  one  loyal  household,  holding  all 

Humanity,  and  then  perchance,  may  love's  dis 
honor 

Seem  foul  as  incest,  and  imperilers  of  it, 


COLUMBUS.  179 

COLUMBUS.  His  messengers  are  welcome. 

EZ.     And  doubly  so  if  from  Jerusalem  ? 

COLUMBUS.     The  holy  city  ? 

>EREZ.  Yes.      The  grand  Soldan 

Of  Egypt  sent  us. 

COLUMBUS.  With  a  message  ? 

PEREZ.  Yes. 

He  vows,  in  case  the  Spaniard  will  not  stay 
This  war  against  the  Moor,  to  rouse  the  East, 
Pull  down  all  Christian  churches,  and  beneath 
Entomb  their  worshipers. 

COLUMBUS.  He  thinks  this  threat 

Will  influence  Ferdinand? 


No  longer  vehicles  ot  life  humane, 
Unsouled  of  self-control,  all  flag  themselves 
The  death-trucks  that  they  are,  and  make  health 

scud 
From  their  contagion  as  from  carrion. 

COLUMBUS.    You  mean 

DIEGO.     The  young  are  not  so  trained  in  Spain — 
Not  schooled  to  know  each  other,  soul  by  soul, 
And  nothing  but  the  soul  can  outweigh  sense. 

COLUMBUS.     In  general,  true  ! — but  she 

DIEGO.  Our  lives  reflect 

The  light  of  our  surroundings.     What  are  here  ?— • 
Accursed  customs  that  mistrust  the  soul, 
Ay,  robe  its  every  feature  in  their  rags, 
Draped  all  to  hint  unshapeliness  beneath. 
Away  with  earthly  habits  that  can  hide 
God's  image  framed  within  ! 


ISO  COLUMBUS. 

SANCHEZ.  It  should  not. 

PEREZ.  No. 

COLUMBUS.     But  must  the  faithful  suffer  ? 
PEREZ.  They  do  now. 

At  each  pretext  oppressed,  reviled,  and  robbed 
Of  property  and  freedom,  flayed  and  hung, 
And  heaven   knows  what ;   for  it  gets  most  of 

them.26 
DIEGO  {glancing  at  the  MONKS  and  speaking  aside  to 

COLUMBUS). 
They    seek    the    king — might    speak    for    you, 

not  so? 
COLUMBUS  (to  DIEGO).     They  might. 

{To  the  MONKS.)     Would  you  not  rest  with  us 

to-night  ? 
PEREZ.     We  thank  you — and  your  name  ? 

(DIEGO  and  the  others  as  COLUMBUS  gestures 
to  them,  enter  tent  of  COLUMBUS  and  sit. 
COLUMBUS  sits  on  the  log  to  the  left  of  his  tent 


26  SANCHEZ.     That  should  not  be. 

PEREZ.  Ah,  when  what  should  be  is, 

What  is  will  be  beyond  this  earth. 

SANCHEZ.  When  once 

Old  Spain's  white  line  of  ships  have  tailed  for 

good 

This  flying  kite  here  of  the  Moor,  and  cleared 
The  blue  about  us,  there  should  rest  no  ship 
Not  steered  to  right  our  brethren  there. 


COLUMBUS.  l8l 

with  his  back  to  center!) 
COLUMBUS.  Columbus. 

PEREZ.  Oh ! 

Have  heard  of  you.27     (Keeps  silent.) 
COLUMBUS.     The  silence  of  the  good 

Damns  more  than  bad  men's  curses.      Yet  my 
aims 

Are  one  with  yours — to  speed  the  truth  to  all. 

But  "  all  "  means  more  than  most  men  deem. 
PEREZ.  The  wise 

Aim  not  beyond  their  reach. 
COLUMBUS.  The  faithful  aim 

Wherever  they  are  called. 
PEREZ.  You  heard  the  call 

Just  made  ? 
COLUMBUS.     And  not  a  breast  could  out-thrill  mine 

With  indignation  at  the  tale.       '» 
PEREZ.  It  failed 

To  stir  your  lip  to  pledges. 

OTHER  MONK.  Not  one. 

PEREZ  (to  SANCHEZ).  Would  you  go  ? 

SANCHEZ.  Ay,  I  would. 

PEREZ.  The  time  may  come 

27  COLUMBUS.  Heard  good  ? 
PEREZ.  Why  ?— 

COLUMBUS.  Ah,  have  not. 

I  understand. 


1 82  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.  When  heaven  crowns 

My  present  plan 

PEREZ.  You  will  be  like  your  mates, 

Ennobled,  rich,  and  found  a  family. 
COLUMBUS.     My    western    mission    is   for    Christ 
alone. 

Pray  heaven  with  me  that  I  fulfill  it ;  then 

I  vow  to  live  a  life  like  yours,  and  more — 

To  give  it  to  this  eastern  mission.     See — 
(Drawing  his  sword  and  showing  the  cross  forming 
its  hilt.) 

This   cross — it   aims  the  sword    I   wield! — will 
find 

No  final  rest,  till  waved  above  the  crescent. 
PEREZ.     You  seem  a  holy  man. 

Enter — Left  Center,  from  the  royal  tent,-~ 
BEATRIX,  advances  across  the  stage, 
touches  COLUMBUS  on  his  back,  then  with 
draws  toward  Right  Side  Rear,  behind  his 
tent. 

COLUMBUS.  Nay,  none  is  that. 

When  men  seem  holy  do  not  think  of  them, 

28  this  time  of  night  ? 

Have  you  forgot  ?     Your  father 

BEATRIX.  Is  a  bird, 

Flown  southward,  wrong,  forgetting  for  a  time 

The  winter  whence  it  fled  ? 
COLUMBUS.  But  there  are  ways 


COLUMBUS.  183 

But  of  the  cause  that  has  affected  them. 

(COLUMBUS  rises,  as  if  looking  for  BEATRIX.) 
PEREZ  (to  the  other  MONK).     He   seems  inspired  by 

purposes  well  worth 
The  world's  regard. 
OTHER  MoNk.  He  does. 

COLUMBUS  (aside  as  he  looks  behind  him). 

Who  comes? — I  think 
I  know  her.     (To  DIEGO)  Diego,  will  you  guide 

our  friends 

Across  the  pathway  to  our  other  tent? 
One  waits  here  who  has  business  with  me. 

Exeunt — Right — through  the  tent  of  COLUM 
BUS,  DIEGO,  SANCHEZ,  and  the  MONKS. 
Enter — Right — from  behind  the  same  tent,  BEATRIX. 
COLUMBUS.     You,  Beatrix  ?  and  here  ? — 28 
BEATRIX.  These  worthy  friars 

Just  in  your  tent,  I  hear,  will  see  the  king. 
They  might  commend  you. 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  I  thank  you. 

BEATRIX.  Well  ? 


BEATRIX.     I  am  not  welcome  then  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Oh  no — not  that — 

But  unexpected. 
BEATRIX.  I  have  heard  you  say 

Good  fortune  would  be  so. 

COLUMBUS.  You  bring  it,  then  ? 

BEATRIX.     One  door  ajar  to  it.     These  worthy,  etc 


1 84  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.     More? 

BEATRIX.  You  seem  cold. 

COLUMBUS.  The  night  is. 

BEATRIX.  I  am  not. 

COLUMBUS.     No,  no,  forgive  me. 

BEATRIX.  I  have  more  to  say. 

The  Dona  Bobadilla 

COLUMBUS.  Your  old  foe  ? 

BEATRIX.     New  friend  ;  for  your  sake  made  and 
kept  a  friend. — 29 

This  Dona  Bobadilla  has  in  view 

To  urge  your  claims  upon  the  queen. 
COLUMBUS.  She  has  ? — 

What  is  it  makes  a  woman  serve  as  you 

A  mere  enthusiast  without  success? 
BEATRIX.     No  need  were  there  to  serve  one  with 
success. 

COLUMBUS.     But  failure 

BEATRIX.  Shows  a  spirit  as  it  is. 

It  throws  one's  manhood  into  full  relief, 

Stript  of  all  circumstance  and  accident. 
COLUMBUS.80     The  world  is  full  of  brains,  and  all 
the  brains 

99  By  courtesies  limbering  my  stiff  limbs  of  pride 

Till  limp  and  limping  as  humility. 

COLUMBUS.     But  really 

BEATRIX.  Really,  when  one's  inward  sense 

Of  mastership  outweighs  an  outward  show 

Of  servitude,  why,  one  but  serves  herself. 


COLUMBUS.  185 

Of  whims,  and  all  that  gives  the  whims  more  worth 

Than  blood  that  churns  them  up  to  consciousness, 

Is  that  they  leave  the  brain  and  live  in  deeds. 

Mine  have  not  done  this  yet. 

BEATRIX  (sitting  on  log  to  left  of  tent  of  Columbus,  and 
in  doing  so,  letting  the  shawl  that  she  has  worn 
fall  from  her  on  to  the  log  behind  her.  Colum 
bus  stands  at  the  right,  and  after  a  little  while 
sits  beside  her). 

The  deed  that  best 

Proves  each  man's  workmanship  is  what  he  is. 

If  God  be  the  eternal,  he  who  shows 

Eternal  perseverance  falls  not  far 

From  fellow-craft  with  Him. 
COLUMBUS.  You,  like  a  myth, 

Are  not  inspired,  but  yet  inspiring;  not 

Religion,  but  could  make  a  man  religious. 
BEATRIX.     You  speak  in  figures. 
JOLUMBUS.  We  all  live  in  them, 

BEATRIX.     What  then  ? 

'OLUMBUS.  Why,  they  are  beautiful. 

BEATRIX.  And  this 

Gives  life  its  beauty  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Ay,  and  interest. 

For  every  time  a  spirit  veiled  in  them 

30  COLUMBUS.    This  heart  of  mine  were  heavy  were  it  not 
Made  light  and  bright  by  eyes  that  can  detect, 
Beneath  all  veils  disguising  what  it  is, 
Its  one  sole  virtue — You  forget  that  all 


1 86  COLUMBUS. 

Reveals  itself,  why,  it  anticipates 
The  resurrection  of  the  soul,  not  so  ? 
And  that  brings  heaven, 

BEATRIX.  Then  to  reveal  myself 

COLUMBUS.     Is  very  much  in  such  a  world  as  this— 

When  owning  so  much  that  is  worth  revealing. 
BEATRIX.     You  jest. 

COLUMBUS.     I  am  in  earnest.     When  one  needs 
More  strength  of  spirit,  nothing  save  a  spirit 
Can  ever  give  it.     You  have  given  me  yours. 
BEATRIX.     In  truth  I  have.     Not  seldom  I  have 

thought 

That  I  could  lose  my  soul  to  give  it  you. 
COLUMBUS.     Thank  God,  a  brother's  love  need  not 

accept 
The  sacrifice. — But — should  we  linger  here? 

Your 

BEATRIX.     Well? 

COLUMBUS.  Your  relatives — 

BEATRIX.  Of  flesh,  or  soul? 

I  care  but  for  the  latter.     You 

COLUMBUS.  But  yet 

Their  reasons  are  the  world's.     We  live  in  Spain. 
You  are — 

Enter — Right— from    behind    Columbus*   tent — 
The  MOOR,  looks  at  COLUMBUS  and  BEA 
TRIX  then  begins  to  draw  away  from  the 
log  the  shawl  that  is  beside  and  behind  her. 
BEATRIX.  A  virgin,  yes,  but  were  1  trie- 


COLUMBUS.  187 

COLUMBUS.     Do  not  say  that — 

BEATRIX.  I  could  imagine  times 

When  one  I  know  would  seem  divine. 
COLUMBUS.  Wait,  wait ! — 

How  near  together  heaven  and  hell  may  be ! 
BEATRIX.     Yes;    only  earth  and  earthly  thinking 

make 

It  possible  for  sense  to  deem  them  two. 
Throne  God  in  hell,  all  heaven   would  burst  the 

gates 

And  dream  of  blessed  rest,  though  every  foot 
Were  sea'd  upon  a  prostrate  seething  devil. 

(The  shawl  drawn  by  the  MOOR  disappears 
from  the  log  behind  BEATRIX.  Just  as  it 
does  so,  COLUMBUS  catches  sight  of  it.  The 
MOOR  starts  back  and  wraps  the  shawl 
about  him.  COLUMBUS  rises.) 

COLUMBUS.     What  moved?  (to  BEATRIX  who  also 
rises.) 

Your  shawl 

BEATRIX.  Was  taken  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Yes — drawn  off. 

BEATRIX.     Some  one  was  listening  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Yes — keep  still. 

(Exit — Left   Center — through  the  royal  tent — 
The  MOOR.     COLUMBUS  sees  him. 

I  see 

A  form.     It  disappeared  there  in  your  tent. 
BEATRIX.     My  shawl  on  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Yes. 


1 88  COLUMBUS. 

BEATRIX.     Why,  all  the  ladies'  tents — 

The  queen's — are  reached  through  that.  I  follow. 
COLUMBUS.  No  — 

A  thief, — assassin,  may  be.     No,  let  me — 

(Advancing  toward  the  royal  tent.) 
BEATRIX  (stopping  him).     Be  thought  a   culprit? — 

never  ! 
COLUMBUS  (handing  her  a  dirk)     Then  take  this, 

And  call  me.     I  will  keep  in  hearing. — God ! 

I  cannot  bear  to  let  you  go. 
BEATRIX.  I  must 

Exit — Left   Center — through    the  royal  tent 
BEATRIX  with  the  dirk  in  hand. 

COLUMBUS.     How  brave  in  her!     Yet  what   could 

one  expect ! 

How  brave  in  her  to  let  me  know  her  love  ! 
And  what  unnatural,  unmanned  man  am  I, 
Who  does  not,  will  not  dare,  return  it  her  ! 
Strange  mixture  life  is  of  the  right  and  wrong ! 
Should   one   be   good,    or   kind  ?   and    which   is 

which  ? 

How  much  that  seems  in  line  for  both  is  but 
A  ray  that  falls  to  form  a  pathway  here 
From  the  rent  forms  of  clouds  beyond  our  reach 
Which,   while  they  let  the  light   in,  bring   the 
storm  ! 

VOICES  (within  the  tent  at  Left  Center] .    Help,  help  ! 

COLUMBUS.     Who  called? 


COLUMBUS.  189 

BEATRIX  (appearing  at  Left  Center?) 

Columbus,  come ! — A  Moor 
Has  killed  the  guard. 
COLUMBUS.  You  rouse  the  camp. 

(Calling  aloud)  A  Moor  ! 

Exit  Left  Center •,  COLUMBUS. 
BEATRIX  (calling  aloud}.     A  Moor  ! 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear,    Second  and  Front — SANCHEZ 
and  SOLDIERS.     BEATRIX/^;^  to  Left  Center. 
In  there  !— may  kill  the  queen — a  Moor! 

Exeunt — Left  Center — SANCHEZ  and  SOLDIERS. 

VOICES  (from  within  the  royal  tent  at  Left  Center). 
Ay,  ay,  take  this  and  that. 

Enter  from  Left  Center,   SANCHEZ,  COLUMBUS  and 
SOLDIERS  dragging  a  dummy  form  of  the  MOOR. 

SANCHEZ.  Here — drag  him  out ! 

Is  dead  already — Humph! — is  limp  enough 
To  make  a  rug  of  at  the  door. 

Enter — Right  Side  Rear — other  SOLDIERS,  the  officer 

GUTIERREZ  and  MAKING. 
GUTIERREZ.  The  King. 

(All  salute.     The  KING  looks  at  the  MOOR.) 
KING.     Who  is  he  ? 

SANCHEZ.  An  assassin — sought  the  queen — 

Surprised  the  guard. 


I  gO  COLUMBUS. 

KING.     He  did  not  reach  her  ? 

SANCHEZ.  No. 

(Pointing to  COLUMBUS.) 
Well  nigh  !     He  tracked  him  in.     We  mastered 

him. 

KING  (to  COLUMBUS).  Ay,  ay  !  Your  name  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Columbus. 

KING  (to  all.)  Now  to  rest. 

(To  COLUMBUS). 

But  you  may  come   with   me — Would   see   you 
further. 

Exeunt— Left     Center— KING,     GUTIERREZ, 
COLUMBUS,  SOLDIERS,  BEATRIX. 

Exeunt  at  other  entrances,  OMNES. 


SCENE  SECOND. — Council  Chamber  in  the  Dominican 
Convent  of  St.  Stephen  at  Salamanca.  Dark  wood 
paneling  in  ceiling  and  walls.  A  long  table  in  the 
Rear  with  chairs  behind  it  and  at  both  ends.  En 
trances  at  Right  and  Left  sides.  Enter— Left — 
ZALORA  and  FERNANDEZ. 

31  FERNANDEZ.  And,  say,  does  that 

Make  preachers,  eh  ?  sensational  ?  You  should 
know. 

ZALORA.     You  think  sensations  are  acquired  ? 

FERNANDEZ.  I  know 

A  soul  that  squeals  well,  is  a  soul  well  squeezed. 


COLUMBUS.  19! 

FERNANDEZ.      All  here  ? 

ZALORA.  Oh  yes.     One  must  obey  the  king. 

FERNANDEZ.     He    must  suppose  the   times   ahead 
are  dark. 

ZALORA.     How  so  ? 

FERNANDEZ.  In  giving  us  this  pastime  here. 

ZALORA.     We  have  our  holy  days  and  holidays. 
I  sometimes  wonder  which  are  holier. 

FERNANDEZ.     What,  what !  and  you  a  priest  ? 

ZALORA.  An  old  one — yes. 

Like  other  earthly  things,  our  lives  move  on 
Half  light,  half  shadow,  and  with  me 
The  shadows  came  in  youth. 

FERNANDEZ.  Your  brilliancy 

Developed  late,  eh  ?  like  a  winter's  dawn — 
Or  lightning  from  a  cloud.     But  you  are  right. 
This  life  is  like  a  bladder-air-ball.     If 
You  press  its  youth-side  in,  you,  by-and-by, 

Enter — at  Right — ST.  ANGEL  and  PEREZ  and  ex 
change  greetings  with  FERNANDEZ  and  ZALORA. 
Will  bulge  its  age-side  out.31 — Not  so  ?— Tell  why 
These  balls— our   children's   balls— are   like   a 
bishop. 

Sensation  is  the  step-son  of  depression. 

You  step  on 

ZALORA.  Oh,  go  to  ! — that  spoils  the  form. 

ST.  ANGEL.     What  form  ? 

FERNANDEZ  (to  ST.  ANGEL).    Why,  of  a  ball. 

(to  ZALORA).     Not  so  ?—  Tell  why,  etc. 


192  COLUMBUS. 

PEREZ  (laughing  and  pointing  to  ZALORA). 

Because,  like  him,  they  usually  are  round? 
ST.  ANGEL.     And  sometimes,  though  not  always, 

holy,  eh? 
ZALORA  {good-naturedly). 

Why  point  your  wit  with  personality? 
ST.  ANGEL.     Oh  never,  when  the  person  is  around. 

But  now  the  child's  ball? 

FERNANDEZ.  Why,  the  bawl  is  made 

{Brings  his  hands  down  as  if  ordaining,  and  also 
striking  a  blow. ) 

By  laying  on  of  hands. 

32  Should  know.     You  sent  for  us. 
ZALORA.  And  why  for  me  ? 

Am  I  an  expert  on  insanity  ? 
FERNANDEZ  (to  ZALORA).     Oh  no,  your  place  is  on 

beyond  an  ^rpert. 
TALAVERA.     A  present  pert  ? 
FERNANDEZ.  Beyond  that  too. 

ZALORA.  How  so  \ 

FERNANDEZ.     Beyond  an  #pert  is  a  jy-0-pert. 
ZALORA.     Quite  low  down  in  the  alphabet  of  wit ! 
FERNANDEZ.     I  know — the  last  of  it — just  where 

you  shoe  it. 
FONSECA  (to  ARANA  in  another  part  of  the  halt). 

But  think — the  danger. 
ARANA.  He  will  never  sail ! 

FONSECA.     Not  that  I  mean,  but  in  his  theories. 

You  know  they  contradict  the  church. 
ARANA.  If  this 

Be  true— 


COLUMBUS.  193 

(All  laugh.) 

Enter — Right — MENDOZA  and  TALAVERA. 
Enter  —  Left — ARANA,  FONSECA,  BREVIESCA 
and  others.     All  in,  or  entering,  the  hall 
exchange  greetings. 
TALAVERA  (to  FERNANDEZ).     What  were  you  do 
ing? 
FERNANDEZ.     Our  duty  here — ordaining  nonsense. 

You 

Should  know.32 
TALAVERA.     You  all  make  too  much  light  of  this. 
FERNANDEZ.     What  better  can  enlighten  dullness, 
pray, 


FONSECA.     It  is, — is  very  serious. 

FERNANDEZ  (to  FONSECA).     And  what  of  that  ?    I 

say  the  best  of  physics 
For  seriousness  is  laughter.     Where  is  bile, 
Well  tickled  throats  will  throw  it  up. 

FONSECA.  To  fool 

With  fools  is  feeding  folly. 

FERNANDEZ.  Feed  a  fool 

On  folly,  and  he  grows  so  fat  with  it 
That  soon  all  wisdom's  world  that  he  would  sit  on, 
Would  it  not  die  itself,  must  make  him  diet. 

BREVIESCA.     Is  too  light-weighted — off  his  balance 
now. 

FERNANDEZ.     If  off  his  balance,  bf  lance  him,  ay, 

ay- 
Get  even  with  him — no  great  task  for  you  ! 

TALAVERA.     Come,  come.     You  all,  etc. 


194  COLUMBUS. 

Than  making  light  of  it  ? 

BREVIESCA.  No  enlightening  him! 33 

All  begin  to  take  places  around  the  table,  though 
not  yet  to  sit.  TALAVERA  goes  to  the  cen 
tral  seat  behind  it,  MENDOZA  to  his  right, 
and  ST.  ANGEL  and  PEREZ  to  the  right 
of  MENDOZA.  FONSECA,  BREVIESCA, 
ARANA,  ZALORA  and  FERNANDEZ  are 
at  TALAVERA'S  Left.  Others  go  where 
there  are  places. 

FONSECA.     We  soon  shall  show  you. 
ST.  ANGEL  (to  PEREZ).     Show  us,  as  I  think, 

Birds  of  another 's  feather — birds  of  prey. 
PEREZ.  In  praying  they  do  priest's  work. 
ST.  ANGEL.  Yes  ;  in  that — 

And  making  mortals  humble.     One  with  aught 
To  plume  himself  on,  will  not  go  unplucked. 


33  ST.  ANGEL.     That  must  be  proved. 

ZALORA.  Aha  !     You  seem  his  friend. 

Then  tell  us,  if  you  can,  our  mission  here. 
ST.  ANGEL.     Why,  to  report  about  Columbus. 
FERNANDEZ.  Humph ! 

About  him,  eh  ?     How  far  about  him,  pray  ? 
ST.  ANGEL.     The  truth. 
FERNANDEZ.     What,  what? — are  not  to  exercise 

Our  minds  ? — let  them  revolve  about,  and  then 

Evolve 

FONSECA.     Oh,  cease  your  jesting  ! 
FERNANDEZ.  Jesting  ? — No. 


COLUMBUS.  195 

But  see — the  victim. 

Enter — Right — COLUMBUS. 
TALAVERA  (to  those  in  the  chamber]. 

Friends,  the  Mariner. 
(  To  COLUMBUS  and  all. ) 
I  think  that  you  have  met  before. 

(COLUMBUS  and  all  exchange  greetings. ) 

And  now 34 

The  others  sit.  TALAVERA  motions  to 
COLUMBUS  to  do  the  same,  which  he  does 
at  the  extreme  right. 

(To  COLUMBUS.) 

They  say  you  wish  to  have  a  fleet  and  men, 
And  outfit,  too,  involving  much  expense. 
What  reasons  have  you  ? 
COLUMBUS.  To  extend  the  sway 

We  form  a  body  sitting  on  Columbus. 
An  old  hen,  even,  doing  this,  I  say, 
Would  hatch  out  something. 
ZALORA.  Wait  now.     You  will  find 

Enough  old  hens  here  to  bring  forth,  at  least, 
What  they  will  think  worth  while  their  cackling 
over. 

84  We  get  to  work.     Where  thought  appeals  to 

thought, 

The  only  sovereign  is  the  wisest  word, 
Which  sometimes  is  the  last  word  ; — any  way, 
Is  always  of  the  spirit,  and  needs  not 
Accoutrements  and  courtesies  of  form 


!^6  COLUMBUS. 

Of  Spain  and  Christianity  in  lands 
Where  now  they  are  not  known. 
TALAVERA.  That  wish  is  ours. 

What  proof   have   you,  though,  that    these   lands 

exist  ? 
COLUMBUS.     Reports  of  mariners — authority — 

The  nature  of  the  world. 
TALAVERA.  Do  these  off-set 

The  dangers  ? 

COLUMBUS.          Which  ones  ? 
ARANA.  Like  the  boiling  waves 

Of  Africa,  and  giants  on  the  shores. 
COLUMBUS.     Mere  fables,  all !     Why,  I  myself  have 

sailed 

To  Guinea,  past  where  these  were  said  to  be." 
Vicenti,  too,  some  scores  of  leagues  beyond 

To  prove  its  prestige.     We  can  waive  them,  then, 
And  let  the  spirit  prompt  us  as  it  may. 
(Turning  to  COLUMBUS.) 

35  And  have  you  never  heard  of  Eudoxus 

Of  Cyzicus,  who  left  Arabia 

And  reached  Gibraltar  !  how  too  from  Gibraltar 

The  Carthaginian  Hanno,  sailing  back, 

Came  to  Arabia  ? 
FONSECA.  All  pagan  lies  ! 

COLUMBUS.     A  statement  that  confutes  a  general 
faith 

At  risk  of  reputation  ;  yet  meantime 

Confirms  our  natural  reasoning,  seldom  lies. 


COLUMBUS.  197 

The  Cape  St.  Vincent,  came  on  floating  wood 
Carved  by  men's  hands. 

ZALORA.  Ay,  from  some  other  ship. 

COLUMBUS.      Then   lost   in   many  places.      Wood 

carved  thus 

Was  found  by  my  own  brother-in-law,  Correo. 
And  plants  and  trees  too  drift  thus  from  the  west, 

FONSECA.     Washed  there,  washed  back. 

COLUMBUS.  No,  different  in  kind 

From  any  in  the  East.     They  found  besides 
Two  men's  forms  cast  upon  the  isle  of  Flores, 
With  features  not  at  all  like  men  known  here. 

ARANA.     And  what  of  that? 

COLUMBUS.  The  men — not  only  they — • 

The  trees,  the  plants,  are  like  in  kind  to  those 
Described  by  Polo  and  by  Mandeville 

Who  would  have  said  this,  had  it  not  been  true  ? 

Yet  that  it  should  be,  what  more  natural  ? 
ZALORA.     But  sailing  east  is  not  the  same  as  west. 
COLUMBUS.     Enough  is  known  to  warrant  even  that. 
FERNANDEZ.     St.  Brandan  and  the  seven  cities,  yes  ! 

But  these  have  always  melted  into  clouds 

To  those  who  sought  them. 
COLUMBUS.     Other  lands  are  told  of. 
MENDOZA,     Atlantis,  eh  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  and  Antilla  too, 

Well  known  to  Carthage,  Aristotle  says. 

And  many  a  modern  vessel  has  been  driven 

Where  shores  have  been  described  by  accident 

And  other  signs  of 


198  COLUMBUS. 

As  found  in  those  great  lands  of  Gengis  Khan 

And  Prester  John,  far  in  the  Indies. 
ARANA.  They 

Were  east,  not  west. 

COLUMBUS.  Just  so,  both  east  and  west. 

FERNANDEZ.     What,  what? 

BREVIESCA  (to  FERNANDEZ).     You  see 

COLUMBUS.  It  seems  a  contradiction. 

It   would   not,  did   you    think  the  world  were 

round.86 

ARANA  (to  COLUMBUS).     And,  if  the  world  were 
round — What,  then,  forsooth  ? — 

Could  sail  around  it,  without  tumbling  off  ? 
FONSECA  (to  ZALORA).     Ay,  or  without  the  water's 

tumbling  off  ? 
ARANA.     Same  thing. 
FERNANDEZ  (good  naturedly  to  COLUMBUS). 

FONSECA.  Desert  Islands. 

COLUMBUS.  No. 

Vicenti,  twenty-score  of  leagues  beyond,  etc. 

36  FONSECA  (laughing).  No,  never,  no  ! 

ARANA.  No  never ! 

ZALORA  (to  COLUMBUS  sarcastically).     You  are  right. 

COLUMBUS.     There  is  authority  for  thinking  this. 

ARANA.     For  fancying  it,  yes  ;  or  anything. 

COLUMBUS.     But  Aristotle,  Seneca,  and  Pliny 
Say  one  can  sail  from  Cadiz  to  the  Indies. 

TALAVERA.     Yet  wait.     Besides  this,  is  it  not  a  fact 
That  they  too  calculated  three  years'  time, — 
Enough  to  starve  a  ship's  crew  ten  times  over 


COLUMBUS.  199 

I  think  that  you  must  be  the  man 
That  once  I  heard  of,  though  I  never  saw  him, 
Who   wants   to   turn   the   whole   world    upside- 
down 

FONSECA.     Where  roots  of  trees  bear  leaves,  and 

rain  spurts  up. 
BREVIESCA.     Oh,  he  would  feel  at  home  there — let 

him  go! 

His  head  feels  upside  down  without  the  going. 
FERNANDEZ.     You  wait  and  hear  the  whole  tale. 

They  examined 

The  feet  of  those  they  found  at  Flores  ;  not  so  ? 
ZALORA.     They  did? 
FERNANDEZ.      Oh  yes!    and  found  them  shaped 

like  spiders', 
Made  to  walk  up  like  this. 

{Gesturing  with  his  hands.) 

Before  her  cruise  could  compass  it  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Some  did ; 

Yet,  judging  by  the  globe  of  Ptolemy, 
Compared  with  one  Marinus  made,  of  Tyre, 
A  third  of  it  alone  rests  unexplored, — 
Eight  hours  of  twenty-four.     You  measure  this. 
It  seems  not  more  than  seven  hundred  leagues. 

FONSECA.     You  measure  it  ?— The  whole  of  it  is 
fancy, 

ARANA.     Yes  ;  — not  a  ray  of  reason  in  it. 

FONSECA.  No. 

ARANA  (to  COLUMBUS).     And,  if  the  world  were  round 
what,  then,  etc. 


200  COLUMBUS. 

BREVIESCA.  Like  those  one  sees 

Clawed  on  a  pictured  devil. 
FONSECA.  If  he  sail, 

He  soon  may  see  them  too  upon  a  real  one. 
TALAVERA.     Severe! 
FONSECA.  I  mean  it;  ay,  I  speak  the  truth. 

The  holy  father,  St.  Augustine,  shows  it: 

Men   formed   like    this  —  to    walk    thus  upside- 
down — 

Could  not  be  sons  of  Adam.37 
ARANA.  Right ! 

BREVIESCA.  Ay,  ay. 

COLUMBUS.     But  are  you  sure  these  men  are  not 

like  us? 

FONSECA.     Humph,    you    would    practice    many 
years  before 

You  walked  with  your  heels  up. 
COLUMBUS.  But  there,  as  here, 

The  earth  may  seem  to  be  below  one. 
ARANA.  Ah! 

We  grant  to  fancy,  man,  a  certain  flight — 

37  Did  they  live, 

It  would  upset  our  whole  historic  base 

Of  Christian  faith. 
ARANA.  Just  so ! 

FONSECA.  To  argue  it 

At  all — grant  it  conceivable — involves 

Clear  heresy. 

ZALORA.  Hear,  hear  ! 

ARANA.  Quite  right !  eta 


COLUMBUS.  201 

Have  witnessed  one  to-day.     But  do  you  dream 

Her  wings  could  turn  us  all  to  flies 

Without  our  knowing  it? 
COLUMBUS.  There  may  be  laws 

Of  nature  past  our  understanding. 
BREVIESCA.  Yes. 

He  means  that  when  we  lose  our  understanding — 

Has  had  experience  of  that — why  then 

TALAVERA.     Come,  no  more  nonsense,  gentlemen. 
ZALORA  (rising).  No  more? 

Time  to  adjourn  then,  eh?     Is  nothing  else 

Before  the  house. 
COLUMBUS  (rising  to  address  ZALORA). 

In  such  a  case  as  this, 

In  which  none  know  the  truth 

FONSECA  (rising).  Your  pardon,  but 

The    Scripture  says  :     "  He   stretcheth  out    the 
heavens  " — 

How  ?— like  a  ball  ?— No,  no;  but  "  like  a  tent."  * 
COLUMBUS.  Were  one  upon  the  other  side  the  globe. 

38  You  dare  throw  doubt  upon  the  word  of  Him 

Who  framed  creation  ? 
COLUMBUS.  What  you  quote  is  but 

A  figure. 

FONSECA.  Fiction  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Figure— not  the  same. 

BREVIESCA.     Accuse  of  figuring — Him  who  knows 
the  end 

From  the  beginning — all  the  sum  at  once  ? 

He  does  not  figure  up.     He  counts  the  whole. 


2O2  COLUMBUS. 

The  heavens  might  seem  as  like  a  tent  as  here. 
FONSECA.     They  only  might  ?     The  Scripture  says 
they  do. 

You  make  it  doubtful  ? 
BREVIESCA.  Heretic ! 

ARANA.  Too  true  ! 

COLUMBUS.     My  one  desire,  the  purpose  of  my  life 

Is  to  become  an  earthly  instrument 

Through  which  the  Scriptures  may  become  fulfilled, 

That  all  the  ends  of  earth — they  are  ends  now — 

Be  brought  together  with  one  Lord  and  God. 
FONSECA.     What   good   would  this  do,  if  His  word 

were  false  ? 

COLUMBUS  (in  surprise).     You  think  I  doubt  it. 
FONSECA.  We  have  heard  you  term 

Its  affirmations  figures,  argue  down — 

And  that  with  pagan  proofs — the  fathers.     Truth 

Can  never  change. 
COLUMBUS.  We  can. 

FONSECA.  And  change  it  ? 

COLUMBUS.  Change 

Its  bearings  for  us.     Truth  is  of  the  heaven  : 

TALAVERA  (to  BREVIESCA).     Oh,  you  mistake  his 

meaning  ! 

BREVIESCA  (looking  around  incredulously).     What  ? 
FERNANDEZ  (to  BREVIESCA).  Yes,  yes. 

39  The  one  is  infinite,  the  other  finite  : 
The  one  expressed  in  light  itself,  the  other 
In  forms  that  but  reflect  light ;  and  the  truth, 
Made  such  but  by  reflection,  cannot  flash 


COLUMBUS.  203 

The  mind  regarding  it  is  of  the  earth.89 

Give  blind  men  sight.     At  first  their  new-viewed 

sun 
Will   stand  still  in    the  heaven.     But  give  them 

time, 
That  sun  will  set  and  rise.     Then  give   them 

space, 

Lift  them  a  thousand  miles  above  the  soil,      ( 
'  It  may  do  neither. 

IARANA.  Dangerous  doctrine  that! 

?FONSECA  (to  COLUMBUS).     No  truth  then,  eh? 
I  COLUMBUS.  Yes;  truth  enough  for  all. 

But  truth  expressed  is  coin  to  use,  not  hoard. 
For  when  it  bears  the  stamp  of  times  too  old, 
It  loses  current  value. 
FONSECA.  Hear  that  !  hear  ! 40 

COLUMBUS.     The  moonlight  guides  us,  if  we  have 

no  sun. 

But  forms  that  loom  at  midnight  lie  to  those 
Who  know  them  in  the  day  ;  and  in  the  day 
No  judgment  of  the  distance  can  be  true 
Except  for  him  who  pushes  on  to  reach  it.41 

An  equal  ray  to  every  view-point. 
SEVERAL.  Oh ! 

COLUMBUS.     Give  blind  men  sight,  etc. 

40  Why^  that  blasphemes  tradition  !     Just  as  if 
Antiquity  itself  did  not  prove  truth  ! 

41  FONSECA.     Hold  !  Hold  !  Enough  of  this  !  There  is 
a  law 


204  COLUMBUS. 

Enter — Right — an  ATTENDANT. 
TALAVERA  (rising).     A  moment,  gentlemen. 
(To  ATTENDANT.) 

What  is  it  ? 
ATTENDANT.  Sire, 

The  royal  courier. 
TALAVERA.  Ah,  has  come  so  soon  ? 

(To  all.} 
Then  for  to-day  our  conference  must  end. 

(All  who  are  sitting  rise.) 
COLUMBUS  (to  TALAVERA). 

And  I  withdraw  ? 
TALAVERA  (bowing  in  assent  and  adieu  to  COLUMBUS). 

We  thank  you  for  your  candor. 
(COLUMBUS  bows  to  all  the  council,  and  the  council  to 

kirn.) 

Exeunt — Right — COLUMBUS  and  ATTENDANT,  show 
ing  him  out. 
FONSECA  (moving  with  others  toward  the  Left). 

But  we  must  see  we  have  no  more  of  it. 
FERNANDEZ  ( to  ZALORA,  TALAVERA  and  MENDOZA, 
who   are   walking  behind  FONSECA,   ARANA, 
BREVIESCA  and  others). 
'  A  spark  in  hayloft !  bull  in  porcelain  ! 
Will  bring  the  wholechurch  crackling  round  us  yet. 

That  ought  to.  be  enforced  here.     We  shall  see  ! 
COLUMBUS.     The  world  will  see  in  time  that  I  am  right. 
No  theory  spun  for  concepts  immature 
Can  ever  fit  their  full  maturity. 


COLUMBUS.  205 

Exeunt  —  Left — FONSECA,  ARANA,    BREVIESCA  and 

others. 

MENDOZA  (to  FERNANDEZ). 
But  racy  as  a  bull  fight  ? 
FERNANDEZ.  In  the  which 

The  bull  did  some  tall  tossing. 
Exeunt — Left — First  MENDOZA,  then  ZALORA,  TALA- 

VERA  and  FERNANDEZ. 
PEREZ  (to  ST.  ANGEL).  Did  you  hear  ? — 

Strange  words  for  him. 
ST.  ANGEL.  No;  I  have  always  found 

The  light  mind  is  the  bright  mind.     Wit  and  wits 
Are  twins  ;  without  the  other  each  is  lacking. 
Exeunt — Right — ST.  ANGEL  and  all  others. 


SCENE  THIRD. — Exterior  of  the  Convent  of  LaRabida, 
near  the  little  seaport  of  Palos,  in  Andalusia,  in 
Spain.  Backing,  a  wall,  behind  which  are  hills, 
trees,  and  a  distant  sea-view .  At  the  right,  a  gateway 
opening  into  the  Convent.  At  the  left,  trees,  etc. 
Entrances  at  Right  Side  Rear,  behind  the  Convent ; 
Right  Side,  further  forward,  through  a  gateway 
opening  into  the  Convent ;  Left  Side  Rear  and 
Front  through  trees. 

Enter — Right  Side  Rear — BEATRIX,  a  MAID,  and 
DIEGO  in  out-door  costumes. 

BEATRIX.     I  could  not  keep  him  back. 


206  COLUMBUS. 

DIEGO.  You  tried?42     Make  friends 

Of  little  souls.     Humph  !  they  are  common. 

BEATRIX  (offended}.  What  ? 

DIEGO.     A  spirit's  measure  is  its  outlook.     Find 
A  man  horizoned  by  the  whole  broad  world 
Who  sees  it  all  in  all,  he  stands  a  son 
Of  God! — is  here  to  do  his  Father's  work; 
And  you  should  join  in  it,  or  not  join  him. 

BEATRIX.     Why   should   he   go   to    France?  —  no 
sailors  there. 

DIEGO.     A  spirit  conscious  of  a  higher  mission 
Is  always  on  the  wing. 

BEATRIX.  You  know  our  king 

Gave  weight  to  what  he  argued,  promised  ships? 

DIEGO.     But  would  not  place  my  brother  in  com 
mand. 

BEATRIX.     Far  safer  so. 

DIEGO.  For  whom? 

BEATRIX.  Your  brother. 

DIEGO.  What? 

You  talked  of  his  own  safety  to  my  brother? 

BEATRIX.     Why,  he  had  done  his  duty,  sown  the 

seed; 
Then  why  not  leave  the  rest  with  Providence? 

49  DIEGO.  You  tried  to  block 

His  pathway,  eh  ?  but  he  looked  over  you — 
Beyond  you  ? 

BEATRIX.     Humph  !  poor  treatment  from  a  friend  ! 

DIEGO.     And  you  would  fill  his  whole  horizon  then  ? 


COLUMBUS.  207 

DIEGO.     Fling   seed   to   seas,    or  bid    it    root  in 

winds ; 

But  do  not  trust  your  thoughts  to  Providence. 
Their  soil  is  in  humanity,  nor  there 
Spring,  grow,  or  ripen  without  husbandry. 

BEATRIX.     He  talked  and  argued 

DIEGO.  Oh,  to  talk  the  truth 

Is  easy  as  to  breathe.     To  live  the  truth, 
And,  mailed  in  its  pure  radiance,  burn  to  black 
The  shade  its  white  heat  severs,  needs  a  strength 
To  suffer  hatred  and  inspire  to  love, 
Half  hell's,  half  heaven's,  and  wholly  Christ's.48 

BEATRIX.  You  think 

That  we  shall  see  him  here? 

DIEGO.  Why  yes,  I  think 

That  they  will  find  him ;  if  so,  bring  him  back. 
He  would  not  miss  a  meeting  with  the  queen. 

BEATRIX.     You  say  she  lunches  with  the  monks  to 
day? 

DIEGO.     I  heard  so,  yes — 

{Pointing  toward  Left  Side  Rear.) 

And  look  you — she  is  coming. 

BEATRIX.     I  have  some  faith  in  her. 

DIEGO.  Faith  always  waits 

BEATRIX.     Why — in  a  friend 

DIEGO.  Is  easy,  yes  ;  make  friends,  etc. 

43  BEATRIX.  And  yet 

If  others  go- 

DIEGO.  So  far  off  is  the  goal, 


2O8  COLUMBUS. 

On  perfect  womanhood.     Show  men  a  form 
Whose  outward  symmetry  of  nature  frames 
A  symmetry  of  soul,  whose  pure-hued  face 
Complexions  pureness  of  the  character, 
Whose  clear  sweet  accents   outlet  clear,    sweet 

thought, 
Whose   burning   eyes   flash    flame  from    kindled 

love, 

And  all  whose  yielding  gracefulness  of  mien 
But  fitly  robes  all  grace-moved  sympathy, — 
Ay,  find  a  soul  whose  beauty  of  the  shield 
But  keeps  more  bright  the  blade  of  brain  because 
Of  what  seems  merely  ornament, — to  her 
All  men  will  yield  a  spirit's  loyalty. 
The  fairy-goddess  of  the  world  of  fact, 
Dream-sister  of  the  brotherhood  of  deed, 
An  angel  minister  as  well  as  queen, 

And  so  unseen,  that  all  but  faith  will  fail ; 

And  this  they  lack. 
BEATRIX.  But  yet,  you  told  him,  too, 

You  thought  it  vain  to  leave  here. 
DIEGO.  Feared  it  vain. 

But  you,  you  urged  him  to  submit,  not  sail, 

Nor  push  his  claims  upon  the  king. 
BEATRIX.  Of  course. 

DIEGO.     Poor,  lonely  man  ! 
BEATRIX.  His  own  fault — would  not  have 

A  soul  go  with  him. 
DIKGO.  Why  should  he  ?     To  minds 

In  which  the  spirit  so  subdues  the  sense, 


COLUMBUS.  209 

The  splendor  of  her  station  lifts  her  high. 
But  like  the  sun  that  she  may  light  us  all. 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear — the  QUEEN  and  ATTENDANTS, 

among  them  ST.  ANGEL. 

Enter — at    the    same    time — at    Right    Side 
through   the    convent's  gateway,  MONKS, 
among  them  PEREZ,  behind  them  SANCHEZ 
and  COLUMBUS. 
PEREZ  (to  the  QUEEN  to  whom  all  do  reverence). 

We  feel  much  honored  by  your  presence 
QUEEN.  Nay, 

You  are  the  ministers  of  higher  power. 
The  honor  comes  to  me. 
BEATRIX  (to  DIEGO  in  the  rear). 

Look  there — your  brother. 
DIEGO.     So  they  have  found  him. 
BEATRIX.  Hark — they  speak  of  him, 

A  lack  of  sympathy  itself  is  absence. 
BEATRIX.     But  you  will  join  him  ? 
DIEGO.  Like  a  faithful  slave 

Whom  word,  not  thought,  commands. 
BEATRIX.  Why  should  not  I  go  ? 

DIEGO.    You  could  not  live  contented  with  a  man 

With  no  home  either  for  himself  or  you. 

He  must  have  told  you  this. 
BEATRIX.  Home  seems  a  state, 

Not  place. 
DIEGO.     A  state  of  happiness,  and  that 

He  knows  he  could  not  give  you. 
BEATRIX.  Do  you  think,  etc. 


210  COLUMBUS. 

PEREZ.     Your    majesty,   your    couriers    have    re 
turned. 

They  found  the  Mariner. 
QUEEN.  Yes,  and  where  ? 

PEREZ.  Far  up 

The  mountains,  just  beside  the  boundary. 
QUEEN.     Alone  ? 
PEREZ.  Alone. 

{Introducing  COLUMBUS.)     The  Mariner. 
(COLUMBUS  salutes  the  QUEEN.) 
QUEEN  (to  COLUMBUS).  As  I  hoped. 

And  you  were  leaving  us  ? 
COLUMBUS.  I  was. 

QUEEN.  Why  so  ? 

COLUMBUS.     I  have  an  aim  in  life. 

(BEATRIX,  in  her  gestures  towards  DIEGO,  to 
which  she  tries  to  attract  the  attention  of 
COLUMBUS,  expresses  disapproval  of  his 
answers  which  follow  here.) 

QUEEN.  I  thought  the  king 

Had  promised  ships. 
COLUMBUS.  He  had. 

QUEEN.  And  officers. 

COLUMBUS.     Not  those  for  such  an  undertaking. 
QUEEN.  You 

Can  go  with  them. 
COLUMBUS.  Your  pardon,  but — I  beg — 

Excuse  me. 


COLUMBUS.  211 

QUEEN.  Why? 

COLUMBUS.  I  have  no  time  to  waste. 

QUEEN.     To  waste? 

COLUMBUS.  Full  eighteen  years  ago  I  first 

Made  known  my  plan.     I  am  no  longer  young. 

.QUEEN.     Why,  ships  and  men,  and  you  to  sail  with 
them! 

COLUMBUS.     Sail  off,  sail  back — I  have  no  time  to 
waste. 

QUEEN.     You  think  they  would  not  persevere? 

COLUMBUS.  The  goal 

Is  not  of  their  discerning. — Why  should  they 
Be  thought  the  ones  to  bring  it  to  the  light? 

QUEEN.     But  they 

COLUMBUS.     To  them  it  seems  a  madman's  whim, 
A  thing  to  flout; — to  me  the  one  conception 
Of  all  that  is  most  rational  and  holy. 
Which,  then,  would  give   his   life  that   it   might 
live? 

QUEEN.     Why,  we  had  hopes  that  none  would  need 
do  that. 

COLUMBUS.     And  hopes   well   based  ;  yet  any  man 

who  sails 

Across  that  unknown  sea  must  have  far  more 
Than  enterprise,  experience,  caution,  skill, 
Knowledge  of  sail  and  compass,  wind  and  star, 
The  soul  must  be  embarked  upon  the  voyage 
With  aims  outreaching  all  that  but  concern 
The  narrow  limits  of  this  earthly  life. 


212  COLUMBUS. 

QUEEN.     How  few  such  men  !     Where  would  you 

find  your  crew  ? 

COLUMBUS.     Wherever  minds  are  subject  to  ideas. 
QUEEN.     And  where   is   that  ? — You  judge  men  by 

yourself. 

COLUMBUS.     I  would  not  dare  to  boast  such  differ 
ence, 

Or  so  humiliate  my  humanity, 

As  to  presume  it  possible  that  aims 

Inspiring  my  own  soul,  if  rightly  urged, 

Would  not  inspire,  too,  many  another. 
QUEEN.  Yes, 

I  can  believe  it,  with  yourself  to  urge  them. 

And  were  you  given  command,  would  you  collect 

A  crew  and  sail  with  them  ? 
COLUMBUS.  No  man  can  reach 

A  problem's  right  solution,  if  he  fail 

To  calculate  aright  the  means. 
QUEEN.  Of  course — 

And  that 

COLUMBUS.    Has  not  been  done  in  this  case. 
QUEEN.  No  ? 

What  more  would  you  require  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Ten  times  the  sum! 

That  has  been  promised. 
QUEEN.  Ten  times?— ten  times  that 

Is  not  in  all  the  treasury. 
COLUMBUS.  I  would  give 

The  whole  I  have— both  property  and  life. 


COLUMBUS.  213 

SANCHEZ.     And  I. 

QUEEN.  You  would? — Yet  rich! 

SANCHEZ.  I  would. 

DIEGO  (coming  forward  and  bowing  before  the  QUEEN). 

And  I, 
Though  I  have  nothing — only  what  you  see. 

ST.  ANGEL.     Your   Majesty,  with   men   like   these, 

preparing 

To  root  their  very  spirits  out  from  earth, 
That  they  may  thus  transplant  them  where  the 

world 

Will  reap  a  richer  fruitage,  what  were  Spain, 
Were   she   to   grudge    a  void   from  which   were 

scraped 

A  paltry  heap  of  gold !     All  were  too  mean 
To  pedestal  aright  the  lasting  fame 
That  would  be  hers,  did  they  attain  their  end. 

QUEEN.    How  true ! — and  yet  the  royal  treasury 

ST.  ANGEL.     Are  there  no  treasures  elsewhere  than 
in  that  ? 

[JuEEN  (hesitating  a  moment}. 
There  are.     If  I  be  queen,  let  me  be  queen 
Of  Spain's  rich  spirit  as  of  Spain's  rich  soil. 
I  will — there  is  a  treasure. — What  to  Spain 
Are  her  most  precious  treasures,  that  star  most 
The  crown  that  they  surround  with  living  light  ? 
Mere  jewels, think  you? — Nay, not  these,  but  men. 
And  if  I  give  the  one  to  gain  the  other,  who 
Could  strike  a  better  bargain  ?     Ay,  I  will — • 


214  COLUMBUS. 

I  pledge  you  the  crown  jewels  of  Castile. 
I  pledge  you  the  commandership.     Enough  ! 
When  ready,  you  shall  go. 
COLUMBUS  (falling  on  his  knees  before  her). 

God  bless  the  queen. 
(The  others  fall  on  their  knees  beside  COLUMBUS.) 

CURTAIN.     END  OF  ACT  II. 


COLUMBUS.  21$ 


ACT  THIRD. 

SCENE  FIRST. — A  street  in  Palos  de  Moguer,  in  Anda 
lusia.  Backing,  a  distant  harbor,  with  ships.  At 
the  Right,  a  porch  before  the  house  of  BEATRIX.  At 
the  Left,  other  houses.  Entrances,  Right  Side  Rear, 
behind  the  house  of  BEATRIX  ;  Right  Side  Second, 
through  a  door  opening  from  this  house  onto  the 
porch  in  front  of  it ;  Right  Side  Front,  through  the 
street  in  front  of  this  house  ;  Left  Side  Rear  and 
front,  through  streets. 

(The  curtain  rising  discloses  COLUMBUS  and  BEATRIX, 
standing  on  or  near  the  porch)** 

BEATRIX.     I  cannot  bear  to  have  you  sail  ! 

COLUMBUS.  Nor  I 

To  leave  you. 


^COLUMBUS.     Now  I  must  off,  and  see  the  ships. 

You  know 
How  long  I  have  been  gone. 

BEATRIX.  You  met  the  queen  ? 

COLUMBUS.     And  king,  and  got  their  last  instruc 
tions. 

BEATRIX.  Oh,  etc. 


2l6  COLUMBUS. 

BEATRIX.     Yet 4B  how  can  you  ? 

COLUMBUS.  I  have  told  you  !— 

What   moves   me   seems    beyond   all   conscious 
thought; 

Seems  like  the  lure  that  leads  the  summer  bird 

Southward  when  comes  the  fall.     It  is  enough, 

It  is  my  destiny.     I  weigh  it  well, 

And  find  it  rational;  yet  why  I  first 

Conceived  it  as  I  do,  I  cannot  tell. 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear — DIEGO. 

DIEGO  (to  himself,  as  he  looks  at  BEATRIX).     Like 
all  the  other  women  in  the  town, 

46  BEATRIX.     Yet 

COLUMBUS.  I  must. 

BEATRIX.  Oh,  yes,  you  must ! 

COLUMBUS.     Our  lives  are  finite,  but  the  aims  of 

life 

Are  infinite,  and  crowd  on  every  side. 
Whate'er  we  strive  to  reach,  in  thought,  in 

deed, 

At  last,  some  one  aim  surely  tips  the  scales  ; 
As  it  has  weight,  its  rivals  are  thrown  up. 
BEATRIX.     Yes,  even  she  who  loves  you. 
COLUMBUS.  I  had  hoped, 

Now  that  my  project  seems,  at  last,  afloat, 
That  your  soul  would  be  buoyant  as  is  mine. 
BEATRIX.     Yes,  yes,  but  yet  can  it  be  worth  the 

price  ? 

COLUMBUS.     I  know  your  meaning, — loss  of  life, 
perhaps, 


COLUMBUS.  217 

Is  leagued  to  keep  him  back,  eh?     It  is  not 
In  nature  that  a  man  obey  a  woman. 
And  human  ways,  when  not  in  nature,  bode 
Inhuman  tampering  somewhere.   He  should  know 
That  none  can  turn  to  she  the  pronoun  he 
Without  an  s  that  puts  a  hiss  before  it. 

(To  COLUMBUS.) 
My  brother? 

COLUMBUS  (to  DIEGO).     Ay? 

DIEGO.     Have  business  (DIEGO  and  BEATRIX  bow 
to  each  other]. 


And  all  for  which  some  prize  life, — ease  and  love. 
But, — ah,  who  would  not  feel  it  is  worth  this? — 
And  others  go  with  me  who  think  the  same. 

BEATRIX.     Some  call  them  fools 

COLUMBUS.  Some  ?— where  ? 

BEATRIX.  In  all  the  streets. 

COLUMBUS.     Here  ? 

BEATRIX.  Yes. 

COLUMBUS.     They  are  fools,  if  this  life  be  all ; 
And  fools,  if  they  but  claim  that  it  is  all. 
For,  risking  dangers  thick  as  mid-sea-mists 
In  war,  in  wave,  men's  deeds  outdo  their  words 
And  prove  they  serve  a  grander  sovereignty, 
Whose  realms  outreach  all  death-lines. 

BEATRIX.  Is  it  these 

You  seek  in  that  cloud-circled,  storm -set  sea? 
Ah,  how  can  I  let  them  out-price  your  life  ? — 
Or  how  can  you  ? 

COLUMBUS.  So  often  I  have  told  you  ! — etc. 


218  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.  I  know  it — (to  BEATRIX), 

Will  find  you  later.     Now,  you  will  excuse  me. 
Exit — Right  Side  Second — into  her  house ,  BEATRIX. 
DIEGO.      You  should  have  come   before.      That 
woman's  gowns 

Are  always  clinging  to  you — look  as  if 

She  thought  to  make  a  woman  of  yourself. 

Confound  their  sex! 

COLUMBUS.     Not  all  now!     There  are  some 

DIEGO.     Some  men  too;  but  in  all  of  Spain,  not  six 

To  man  your  vessels  of  their  own  free  will. 

Why  not? — Because  not  fit  to  go  with  you. 

How  many  women,  think  you,  fit  for  it  ?  " 
COLUMBUS.     You  talk  as  if  you  feared  for  me. 
DIEGO.  I  fear 

For  all  the  expedition.     Have  you  heard 

The  news  ? 


48  COLUMBUS.     Be  not  so  hard  on  them. 
DIEGO.  No,  they  are  soft, 

More  soft  than  cats,  and  mew,  too,  ay  and 

scratch. 

Have  seen  their  blisters  !  ay,  have  seen  a  man 
Whose  very  soul  had  been  scratched  out  by 
one. 

47  DIEGO.  As  if 

The  howlings  of  their  wives  and  mothers  here 
About  their  ears,  could  bring  them  less  of  hell 
Than  howlings  of  the  wind  upon  the  sea  ! 


COLUMBUS.  219 

COLUMBUS.     What  is  it  ? 

DIEGO.  Nothing  that  is  good. 

COLUMBUS.     The  ships  are 

DIEGO.         Floating.     You  may  thank  the  guards. 

The  crews  have  all  deserted. 
COLUMBUS.  What  ? — 47  But  yet 

The  government 

DIEGO.  Yes,  they  have  sent  around 

Arresting  some,  imprisoning  others.     You 

Will  have   your   crew;    for  they  have  found  a 
source 

Beyond  exhausting. 
COLUMBUS.  What  is  that? 

DIEGO.  The  jail, 

Which,  like  an  Arab- shirt  turned  inside  out, 

Will  shake  its  lice  upon  you. 
COLUMBUS.  That,  at  least, 

Will  give  us  men. 


COLUMBUS.     The  women  have  persuaded  them  to  break 

Their  word  with  us  ? 
DIEGO.  Why,  yes.     Who  else  would,  eh  ? 

What  woman  ever  cared  about  her  word — 

Her  own  word  or  her  husband's  ?     Bless  her  jaws  ! 

They  have  so  many  words,  why  care  for  one  word  ? 
COLUMBUS.     Oh,  waive  the  women  !     Is  it  true  the 
crews 

Have  all  deserted  ? 
DIEGO.  Almost  all. 

COLUMBUS.  But  yet,  etc. 


22O  COLUMBUS. 

DIEGO.  If  you  can  call  them  men.48 

What  can  you  ever  do  with  such  as  these 
When  three  months  out  at  sea? 

COLUMBUS.  I  shall  depend 

Upon  my  officers. 

DIEGO.  You  know  them  then? 

You  never  know  a  coward  soul  till  cowed 
By  gusts  out- winding  his  own  self-conceit; 
And  garbs  they  guise  in,  never  cloud  the  air 
In  time  for  us  to  brace  the  fence  they  fell. 
I  would  that  I  were  going  with  you. 

COLUMBUS.  NO* 

All  that  we  settled.     One  should  stay  behind 

To  guard  our  interests  here. 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear — GUTIERREZ. 

DIEGO.  And  will  be  needed 

Far  more  than  you  could  guess.     This  officer 
Will  tell  you, — is  the  one  has  been  in  charge. 

GUTIERREZ  (exchanging  salute  with  COLUMBUS). 
Are  glad  to  see  you,  Senior. 

COLUMBUS.  Thanks. 

The  ships  are  safe  and  ready? 

GUTIERREZ.  Guarded,  Senior, 

All  night,  all  day.     Some  men  here  took  an  oath, 
Perhaps  you  know,  to  scuttle  them. 

COLUMBUS.  They  did  ? 

48  These  creatures,  whom  a  life-long  fear  of  light 
Has  trained  for  treachery  stabbing  in  the  dark  ; 
Sneaks,  too  irresolute  and  indolent 


COLUMBUS.  221 

But  they  have  not  succeeded. 
GUTIERREZ.  No,  of  course. 

We  always  guard  a  ship,  when  once  impressed 

For  royal  services,  like  treasure.     Still 

They  came  within  an  inch  of  it. 
COLUMBUS.  How  so? 

GUTIERREZ.     We  thought  that  Breviesca  was  your 

friend. 

COLUMBUS.     Quite  otherwise,  I  fear. 
GUTIERREZ.  And  I,  but  yet, 

As  agent  of  Fonseca,  Bishop  of 

COLUMBUS.     O,  worse  and  worse !     The  bishop,  I 
believe, 

Would  be  assured  that  only  truth  had  triumphed, 

If  I  and  all  the  crew  were  drowned. 
GUTIERREZ.  Ah,  so? 

Well,  they  have  tried  it. 
COLUMBUS.  What? 

GUTIERREZ.  To  have  you  drowned. 

COLUMBUS.     You  mean? — 

GUTIERREZ.  Tried  to  corrupt  the  calkers. 

COLUMBUS.  No! — 

Are  sure  of  that? 
GUTIERREZ.  I  overheard. 

COLUMBUS.  Good  God! — 

This  man  Breviesca? 

To  push  by  worthy  means  to  worthy  ends. 
But  I  would  trust  in  waves  adrift  for  hell 
As  much  as  in  a  rudder  held  by  knaves. 
What  can  you  ever  do  with  such  as  these,  etc. 


222  COLUMBUS. 

GUTIERREZ.  It  was  he. 

COLUMBUS.  And  you? 

GUTIERREZ.     We  turned  the  calkers  off;  and  had 
a  task 

Impressing  other.     That  performed,  we  put 

A  soldier  back  of  every  one  to  calk 

His  pores  with  steel  unless  he  calked  the  ships'. 
COLUMBUS.     They  now  are  ready? 
GUTIERREZ.  All  things  ready,  Senior. 

COLUMBUS.     We  sail  to-morrow,  then. 
GUTIERREZ.  Meantime,  perhaps — 

Your  pardon — you  will  hold  yourself  unseen? 
COLUMBUS.     Why  so? 
GUTIERREZ.  To  save  a  conflict  with  the  mob. 

COLUMBUS.     You  mean  that 

GUTIERREZ.     They  might  keep  you  here  by  force; 

49  DIEGO.     Why,  very  victims  burning  at  the  stake 
Could  never  cause  a  cloud  more  black  than  seems 
To  hang  above  the  town  to-day. 

50  DIEGO.     Of  course.     A  man  but  in  his  public 

thought 

Antiphonals  the  public  sentiment. 
A  woman  does  it  in  her  private  thought ; 
And  woe  to  lovers  who  dare  say  their  say 
Without  a  little  clique  that,  echoing  it, 
Can  make  it  seem,  at  least,  a  little  public. 
COLUMBUS.     But  can  you  blame  her — 
DIEGO.  Trend  to  fashion  ?    No. 

You  flaunt  the  flag  of  fashion  in  a  crowd 
And,  in  the  bee-line  of  their  rush  to  tail 


COLUMBUS.  223 

Or  sacrifice  your  life,  and  readily, 

To  save  their  friends, — the  friends  they  deem  are 

doomed.48 
COLUMBUS.     Your  hint  has  value.     I  will  join  you 

soon. 
Exit — Left  Side  Rear — GUTIERREZ,  after  saluting. 

COLUMBUS  continues  to  DIEGO. 
So  so  !     You  note  what  influenced  Beatrix.50 
Find  Pinzon — Perez — 'Say  we  sail  at  dawn. 
DIEGO.     I  will. 

Exit— Right  Side  Front—  DIEGO. 

COLUMBUS  (to  himself,  looking  toward  the  Left,  then 

at  the  house  of  BEATRIX). 

I  ought 

To  say  a  word  more  here.51 

Enter — Right  Side  Rear   BREVIESCA,   accompanied 
by  a  CITIZEN. 

Its  leading,  one  could  pick  the  women  out 
Without  their  having  skirts  on. 

COLUMBUS.  I  must  send 

For  Pinzon.     He  expects  me  at  his  house. 

DIEGO.     Let  me  go. 

COLUMBUS.         Thanks,  and  say  that  I  must  wait, 
And  meet  him  at  the  ships.     Find  Perez  too, 
And  tell  him  that  we  sail  at  dawn,  and  wish 
The  sacrament.     You  say  that  we  will  use 
The  little  chapel  there  beside  the  dock. 

51  When  courtesy 

And  caution  balance  in  the  scales,  the  heart 
Is  kinder  than  the  head,  if  not  more  wise. 


224  COLUMBUS. 

BREVIESCA  (stepping  between  COLUMBUS  and  the  house 
of  BEATRIX). 

Good  day. 

COLUMBUS.  Ah  !  Senior  Breviesca  ! 

BREVIESCA.  I 

Would  speak  to  you. 
COLUMBUS.  You  have  your  wish. 

BREVIESCA.  I  bring 

An  invitation  from  the  bishop. 
COLUMBUS.  Which — 

Fonseca  ? 
BREVIESCA.     Yes. 

COLUMBUS.  And  where  is  he  ? 

BREVIESCA.  Why,  at 

The  monastery. 
COLUMBUS.  On  the  other  side 

The  town,  not  so? — What  would  he  with  me? 
BREVIESCA.  Talk 

About  the  mission  that  the  church  has  planned. 


52  BREVIESCA.     Is  right,  though  ! — Is  no  Spaniard  ; 

no — a  dog 

Of  Genoa — no  Christian — a  Chris-cfaen. 
COLUMBUS.     My  work  the  queen  has  ordered.     I 

should  do  it. 
BREVIESCA  (laughing  and  pointing  to  the  house  of 

BEATRIX). 

Yes,  yes,  the  queen  of  hearts. 
CITIZEN.  A  pretty  game  f 

Queen  taken  by  a  knave. 


COLUMBUS.  225 

COLUMBUS.     These  matters  have  been  all  arranged. 
BREVIESCA.  But  he 

Would  see  you. 

COLUMBUS.         He  can  see  me  at  my  ship. 
BREVIESCA.         His  work  prevents. 
COLUMBUS.  Then  give  him  my  regrets. 

BREVIESCA.     But  he  demands  your  presence. 
COLUMBUS.  I  am  not 

Within  his  jurisdiction. 

CITIZEN  Ho  !  hear  that.52 

COLUMBUS.     My  answer  has  been  given. 
CITIZEN.  Frightened  eh  ? — 

Aha  ! — would  get  behind  the  soldiers  there. 
(Pointing  toward  the  ships  and  harbor  at  the  Left^ 
BREVIESCA  (approaching  COLUMBUS  as  if  to  lay  his 
hand  on  him). 

Say,  will  you  go  with  me  ? — I  think  you  will. 


COLUMBUS.  It  might  be  well 

To  imitate  the  mien  of  gentlemen. 
BREVIESCA.     And  you  of  Christians,  and  obey  the 
bishop. 

63  COLUMBUS.     A  man  who  lives  for  others,  not  for 

self, 

Has  little  fear  for  self  ;  yet  care  for  them 
May  give  him  caution.     I  have  weighty  reasons 
For  keeping  eyes  upon  the  ships. 
CITIZEN  (sarcastically  and  looking  significantly  at 
BREVIESCA). 

Oh,  yes ! 


226  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS  (knocking  BREVIESCA  down). 

Yes,  yes,  when  down  there  with  you,  then  I  will. 
Enter — Left  Side— GUTIERREZ  with  two  SOLDIERS. 
Enter — Right  Side  Front—  DIEGO. 
Exit — Right  Side  Rear — CITIZEN. 
DIEGO.     What  is  it? 

COLUMBUS.  I  am  practicing,  you  see — 

On  criminals. — That  man  there  set  a  trap. 
But  it  takes  two  to  make  a  trap  work.     He, 
He  was  a  genius,  this  man,  played  both  roles. 
He  set  it  and  was  caught  in  it. 
Exit — Right  Side  Rear — BREVIESCA,  crawling  anA 

iously  away. 

DIEGO  and  GUTIERREZ  start  to  follow  and  arrest  him. 
COLUMBUS  motions  them  back  with  his  hand. 

No  no  ! 
DIEGO.     And   you,  my  brother?     Such    a   patient 

man  ? 
COLUMBUS.     Oh,  patient!     When  a  fire  has  beea 

kept  in 

For  eighteen  years,  blame  not  its  blazing  out.    j 
Thank  God  it  did  not  wholly  blast  the  fool 
Whose  fumbling  fouled  it — thought  it  had  no  life. 
The  villain  !  if  I  only  could  be  sure 
He  would  be  better  for  the  punishment ! 
DIEGO.     You  go  now  to  the  ships  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  very  soon, 

GUTIERREZ.     Shall  I  go  with  you  ? 


COLUMBUS.  227 

COLUMBUS   (ascending  the  porch   of   the   house  of 

BEATRIX).         Wait  here  if  you  choose. 
But  yet,  of  all  men  taught  the  lesson,  I 
By  this  time   should  have  learned  to  go  alone. 

Exit— Right  Side  Front—  DIEGO. 

Exit — Right  Side — through  the  porch — COLUMBUS. 

GUTIERREZ  motions  to  the  soldiers  as  if  setting  a  guard 

about  the  house  of  BEATRIX. 
Exit — Right  Side  Front — one  SOLDIER. 
Exeunt — Right  Side  Rear — other  SOLDIER  and  GUTI 
ERREZ. 


SCENE  SECOND — The  deck  vf  the  ship  of 
COLUMBUS.  Backing,  sky  and  sea;  at 
first,  invisible,  because  it  is  night ;  later 
visible,  as  at  sunrise ;  and,  if  thought  best, 
representing,  in  a  panorama,  a  gradual 
approach  of  the  ships  to  shore,  the  scenery 
moving  from  Right  to  Left.  At  the  right 
is  the  bow  of  the  ship.  At  the  left,  a 
cabin  with  a  deck  above  //,  on  which  SAILORS 
can  stand.  There  are  also  masts,  sails, 
and  various  arrangements  which  will 
readily  suggest  themselves  as  appropriate, 
ropes,  railings,  etc. 

Entrances — Left  Side  Rear— and— Left  Side 
Front — on  each  side  of  the  cabin; — Left 
Side  Second — into  the  cabin,  as  well  as  just 


228  COLUMBUS. 

above  the  cabin  on  to  the  upper  deck. 
Right  Center — through  a  hatchway  into 
the  ship's  hold. 

ROLDAN  appears  at  the  bow  of  the  ship,  ESCOBAR 
near  him,  and  PINTOR  nearer  the  cabin. 
Other  SAILORS  also  are  present. 
ROLDAN  (looking  off  through  the  dark).     Oh,  I  am 

sick  of  this. 

PINTOR.  And  I. 

ESCOBAR.  You  wait. 

Another  storm  will  make  you  sicker  still. 
PINTOR.     If  it  would  only  sicken  him. 
ROLDAN.  Make  him 

Throw  up,  eh? 

PINTOR.  Yes,  throw  up  the  voyage. 

ESCOBAR.  That 

Will   come   in   time.     But  when   it  comes,  my 

lad, 

The  ship  will  throw  up  us  too.64 
PINTOR.  That  it  will. 

ROLDAN.     What  means  it  all  ? — those  weeks  with 
out  a  stir 

64  PINTOR.  I  know  now 

How  fish  feel  when  they  see  the  water  boil, 
Just  when  we  drop  them  in  alive. 

ESCOBAR.  Are  not 

More  out  their  element  than  we  are  here, 
With  these  few  planks  between — then  purgatory. 

PINTOR.     Nor  any  more  sure,  either,  to  be  cooked. 

ROLDAN.     What  means,  etc. 


COLUMBUS.  229 

Amid  the  waves,  and  then  those  heavy  swells 
Without  a  stir  amid  the  winds? 
ESCOBAR.  What  means  it? — 

Why,  like  enough  our  ship  is  near  the  place 
Where  all  the  waters  pour  down  hill. 
ROLDAN.  You  mean 

The  edge? 

ESCOBAR.     Why  not? — In  streams  you  always  find 
Smooth,  rapid  water,  waves,  and  then  the  plunge. 
ROLDAN.     Is  quiet  now. 
ESCOBAR.  So  is  a  cataract 

Just  where  it  nears  the  brink.56 
ROLDAN  (looking  for  approval  to  PINTOR  and  other 
SAILORS,  who  nod  to  him  in  confirmation  of 
what  he  says. ) 

Yes,  we  have  heard — 
ESCOBAR.     You  have? — Then  you  are  all  a  set  of 

fools. 

PINTOR.     I  know  it;  but  it  never  was  our  fault. 
ESCOBAR.     Not? — Whose? 

PINTOR.        The  government's.     It  forced  us  here. 
ESCOBAR.     We  were  not  kept  here  by  it.     What 
does  that 

55  ROLDAN.  The  holy  dame  ! 

Do  you  believe  ? — 
ESCOBAR.  There  must  have  been  some  cause. 

What  was  it  ?     There  was  not  a  wind. 
PINTOR.  And  when 

There  was,  ten  times  to  one  time  it  blew  west. 


230  COLUMBUS. 

Is  one  man's  will,  and  he  a  lunatic." 
PINTOR.     A  man  should  use  his  reason.     Are  we 

brutes  ? 
ESCOBAR.     No  ; — worse  than  brutes  when  he  comes. 

Brutes,  at  times, 

To  save  their  lives,  will  turn  upon  a  man. 
But  we — five  score  to  one,  but  all  afraid 
To  call  our  souls  our  own.     Let  him  appear, 

No  wind  like  that  will  ever  speed  us  home. 
ESCOBAR.     And  what  wind  think  you  will,  or  can  ? 
ROLDAN.  Or  can  ? 

ESCOBAR.     Humph  !  let  him  keep  on  here,  a  day 
or  two, 

These  floating  weeds  will  hold  us  like  a  vise. 
ROLDAN.     He  calls  them  signs  of  land. 
ESCOBAR.  Oh,  yes,  of  land ! — 

That  fatal  land  afloat  in  fatal  seas 

Entrapping  in  their  meshes  all  the  ships 

That  dare  to  venture  near. 

66  ROLDAN.     How  did  he  ever  gain  the  ear  of  Spain  ? 

ESCOBAR.     By  talking.     Most  men's  thoughts  are 

led,  you  know, 

In  trains  of  their  own  talking.     Talk  them  down, 
They  lose  their  leader.     Keep  on  talking  then, 
They  find  in  you  another.     Any  sound 
You  choose  to  make,  they  take  for  sense.     Why 

not? 
That  course  has  grown  to  be  their  habit. 

PINTOR.  Oh, 

Yet  not  through  talk  or  thought  he  deals  with  us, 
But  force. 


COLUMBUS.  231 

We  fly  like  cry-girls  from  a  buzzing  bug 

One  touch  could  crush  in  no  time. 
ROLDAN.  But  the  court 

Has  clothed  him  with  authority. 
ESCOBAR.  Mere  sheep 

Would  not  be  driven  by  another  sheep 

Though  clothed  in  bear-skin,  could  they  only  hear 


ESCOBAR.  And  he  will  find  before  he  dies 

That  men  accept  one's  estimate  of  them. 
If  he  esteem  them  thinkers,  give  them  thought, 
They  turn  to  him  like  thinking  beings  ;  but 
If  he  esteem  them  brutes,  and  give  them  force, 
They  turn  upon  him  like  a  brute. 

ROLDAN.  Should  we, 

Ourselves  ? 

ESCOBAR.        Why  not  ?— if  he  deserve  it? 

ROLDAN.  But 

If  we  should  mutiny,  and  then  go  home — 

ESCOBAR.     The  choice  is  not  between  this  place 

and  home  ; 

No,  but  the  bottom  of  the  sea  and  land. 
And  other  lands  are  fertile  as  are  Spain's. 

ROLDAN.     You  own  no  wife  and  children  ! 

ESCOBAR.  Humph,  that  means 

My  life  is  not  behind  me,  but  before — 
With  precious  little  left  of  it,  and  this— 
How  much  is  time  here  worth,  if  in  it  all 
We  live  but  slaves,  and  never  know  of  good  times  ? 
The  man  who  squeezes  these  all  out  our  life — 
Wrings  our  last  sweat-drop  out  to  serve  himself, — 


232  COLUMBUS. 

His  old  familiar  bleat." 
PINTOR.  What  right  has  he 

To  gem  and  offset  Genoese  mastership 

By  making  slaves  of  Spaniards  ? 
ROLDAN.  That  was  what 

They  asked  at  home  ! 
ESCOBAR.  What  they  will  ask  again, 

If  we  sail  home  without  him. 
PINTOR.  That  they  will.68 

ROLDAN.     Man,  you  will  have  us  hung  for  murder 

yet. 

ESCOBAR.     Oh,  there   is   many   a   way   to   kill  a 
cat. 

The  best  I  know  is  drowning.     Nights  are  dark. 

He  has 

PINTOR.         A  vampire's  care  for  us. 
ESCOBAR.  What  he 

Cares  for  is  notoriety,  which  means 

The  bulge  of  contrast.     Crush  and  hush  your  kind, 

And  you  are  seen  and  heard. 
PINTOR.  Yes,  you  are  right. 

A  man  should  use,  etc. 

57  ROLDAN.  And  yet  you  know 

He  has  the  power 

ESCOBAR,  Because  we  give  it  him, 

Who  whine, — whine  merely  like  a  set  of  babes, 
Too  weak  to  lift  a  finger  for  ourselves. 

ROLDAN.     The  King 

ESCOBAR.  Is  all  divine  !     I  grant  it ;  ay, 


COLUMBUS.  233 

And  one  may  slip  against  a  man,  and  he, 
When  slipped  against,  may  stumble  overboard. 
If  so,  he  drowns — but  how?— he  drowns  himself. 
ROLDAN.       Hark! — He   is    coming! — Down — and 

clear  from  this. 
Exeunt — Right  Center — ROLDAN,  PINTOR, 

ESCOBAR  and  other  SAILORS. 
Enter — Left  Side  Second — COLUMBUS. 
COLUMBUS  (to  himself). 

He  comes  on  plotting. — That  is  plain  enough. 
How  form   and  face — mere  garments  that  they 

are — 

Will  siss  and  wrinkle  to  a  twist  of  thought ! — 
Fools  ! — Yet  without  fools,  where  were  sovereignty 


What  else  could  ever  pick  out,  plying  but 
A  random  sword,  and  prick  and  pin  in  place 
As  many  Spanish  cowards  as  are  here  ? 
PINTOR.     Yes,  cowards  all !     What  right,  etc. 

68  What  man  of  station  in  the  land  would  not 
Be  glad  to  hear  that  he  had  failed  ? 

ESCOBAR.  And  all 

The  rest  will  see  that  those  who  sailed  beyond 
All  others  on  a  sea  like  this,  have  done 
The  whole  that  Spain  could  ask. 

ROLDAN.  And  still 

ESCOBAR.  As  if 

It  were  not  right,  when  in  a  madman's  hands, 
To  use  our  reason,  and  resist  him. 

PINTOK.  Yes. 


234  COLUMBUS. 

For  wise  men? — they  would  find  it  harder  work 
To  do  earth's  thinking  for  it;  harder  work 
To  string  the  nerves  that  center  in  one's  brain 
Through  all  the  mass,  and  rein  it  to  one's  will. — 
Can  I  do  this  with  these  men?  or  must  I, 
I  who  have  given  all  these  years  to  it, 
Ay,  and  my  young  love  too,  my  life,  my  all, — 
Must  I  turn  back? — I  will  not,  though  they  kill  me. 

{Looking  at  paper  in  his  hand.) 
These  reckonings  give  seven  hundred  fifty  leagues. 
How  wise  to  make  my  false  log  for  the  crew! 
This  now  has  passed  six  hundred ;  but  without  it 
I  might  have  had  more  trouble.     In  the  time 
I  served  King  Renier,  and  went  off  to  take 
The  galley  Fernandina;  and  my  crew, 
In  fright  to  hear  two  ships  were  guarding  her, 
Had  turned  our  helm,  and  thought  we  flew  away; 
Ah,  how  I  steered  straight  for  her  in  the  night! 
And  fought  her  at  the  dawn ! — So  act  I  here. 
We  men  who  think  have  duties  due  our  kind. 
One  duty  is,  to  block  their  finding  out 
What  are  our  thoughts.     Yes,  they  may  learn  too 

much. 

The  truth  is  not  a  plaything  for  a  babe. 
Truth  is  a  gem,  and  sometimes  needs  encasing. 
Yet,  if  we  sail  on  long,  the  day  will  come 
When  our  true  distance  will  be  known. — What, 

then? 
What  then? 


COLUMBUS.  235 

VOICES  (beyond  Left  Side  Rear).  He  shall  turn  back ! 

He  shall !     Will  make  him. 
COLUMBUS.     Hark !  hark  ! — turn  back  ?     They  dare 

speak  out  like  that  ? 
Oh,  what  a  cruel  destiny  is  mine 
To  unfulfillment  doom'd,  if  I  do  not 
What  even  heaven  itself  has  never  done, — 
Give  patience  to  a  world  of  restlessness ! 
Oh,  God,  I  think  I  serve  thee.     Give  me  power 
To  calm  these   minds,    as   Christ  could  calm  the 

sea. 

Enter — Left   Side  Rear — ESCOBAR,    ROLDAN,    PIN- 
TOR,  SANCHEZ,  GUTIERREZ,  and  others. 
Well,  what  is  wrong? 
ESCOBAR.  We  came  to  tell  you,  Senior, 

We  think  it  time  that  we  turn  back. 
COLUMBUS.  Turn  back? 

A  strange  idea  that! 
SEVERAL.  Oh,  strange! 

COLUMBUS.  Why  yes, 

With    what    we    saw    to-day  —  the    herbs    and 

flowers. 

PINTOR.     Humph!  they  were  seen  before, 
COLUMBUS.  But  not  the  same — 

Not  fresh  and  green  ;  and   then  the   small  shore- 
fish 

And  birds  too,  birds  of  kinds  that  never  sleep, 
Nor  light,  except  on  land — the  singing  birds 
That  perched  upon  our  mast. 


236  COLUMBUS. 

ESCOBAR.  If  there  were  land — 

Three  times  it  has  been  called — we  now  have 

passed  it. 

COLUMBUS.     We  may  be  in  a  bay. 
ESCOBAR.  You  would  not  steer 

As  Captain  Pinzon  wished. 
COLUMBUS.  The  birds  all  flew 

This  other  way.     I  thought  them  flying  home. 
PINTOR.     We  are  not  birds. 

ESCOBAR.  Are  going  home  though. 

ROLDAN.  Yes. 

COLUMBUS.     A  pleasant  swim!     The  ship  is  going 

on. 

SEVERAL.     No,  no. 

COLUMBUS.  Why,  men,  you  said  the  same 

before. 

Have  you  forgot  how  many  of  you  cried, 

Ay,  cried,  in  fear  of  burning  skies  above 

The  Teneriffe  volcano? — and  I  said 

It  would  not  harm  you.     Did  it?     Then  shot  by 

Those  meteors;  and  I  said  they  too  would  pass. 

Did  I  mistake?     Then  tireless  western  winds; 

But  east  winds  turned  them.     Then  a  glassy  sea; 

But  billows  broke  it.     Then  came  signs  of  land; 

And  now  they  multiply,  as  I  had  hoped. 

If  right,  so  far,  then  I  have  earned  your  trust. 
ESCOBAR.     Ugh!     Those  are  old  tales  now. 
SEVERAL.  Yes. 

COLUMBUS.  Let  them  be. 


COLUMBUS.  237 

The  land  toward  which  we  sail  is  not  unknown; 
Those  who  have  seen  it  say,  that  all  the  gold 
In  all  of  Europe  grouped  and  fused  to  make 

.    A  single  mass,  would  hardly  form  one  cliff 
Of  endless  mountain  ranges  that  are  there. 

R.OLDAN.     Hear  that  now  ! 

COLUMBUS.  They  would  be  enough  to  make 

A  lord,  at  home,  of  every  one  of  you 
Without  the  title  ;  but,  think  you,  the  court, 
The  courtiers,  would  not  wish  you  this  besides  ? 
You,  who  had  burned  through  unknown  darkness 
here 

More  brilliantly  than  comets  through  the  sky  ? 

I  mean  it,  for  the  trail  you  leave  behind 
Will  write  in  deathless  light  around  the  world 
The  endless  glory  of  our  Christian  Spain. 

ROLDAN  and  OTHERS.     Yes,  yes. 

ESCOBAR.     No,  no,  come  on  ! 

(Moving  toward  COLUMBUS,  and  urging  others  to  do 
the  same). 

PINTOR  (to  ROLDAN  and  those  who  hold  back).     Ay, 

you  are  pledged. 
Lay  hands  upon  him.     Make  him  yield. 

COLUMBUS  (as  ESCOBAR  gets  near  him). 

Stand  back. 
I  represent  the  king. 

ESCOBAR.  And  we  your  slaves? 

COLUMBUS.      Far  better    so   than   slaves   to   one 
another. 


238  COLUMBUS. 

Lay  hands  on  me,  not  I  alone  will  have 

A  score  of  masters.     Look  you  to  your  mates.  $ 

You    pledged    yourselves    to     stand    together? 

What?— 

Have  you,  or  you,  no  foe  in  all  this  crew? 
And  now  you  place  your  life  in  that  foe's  hands? | 
When  all  he  needs  to  raise  himself  in  Spain 
Is  to  speak  truth  of  you, — you  think  he  will  not? 
Ay,  kill  me,  drown  me,  I  shall  be  avenged. 
When  bad  men  band,  then  traitors  fill  the  camp; 
And,  if  a  fair  foe  fail,  the  foul  will  not, 
For  in  that  fight  are  God  and  devil  both. 
ROLDAN.     Humph!     I  must  not  be  found  here. 

(Turning  away  with  others}. 

PINTOR.  No,  nor  I. 

COLUMBUS     (aside).     At   last  the   tide   has  turned. 
Heaven  help  me  now. 

(to  the  sailors). 

I  thought  that  I  had  officers  and  men 
Too  manly  to  see  one  man  stand  alone, — 
That    some    would    stand    beside    me.     Was   I 

wrong  ? 

SANCHEZ.        No. 
GUTIERREZ.  No. 

(ROLDAN  and    those    with    him   come    beside 
SANCHEZ  and  GUTIERREZ.     They  approach 
COLUMBUS.     ESCOBAR/«//T  back). 
COLUMBUS.     I  thank  you,  men.     I  hoped  as  much. 
And  now — why  you  are  my  brave  crew  again ; — 


COLUMBUS.  239 

Have  been  so  brave,  I  could  not  bear  to  think 
That  you  could  fail  of  perfect  victory — 
Here,  too,  almost  in  sight.     How  you  would  feel 
When,   after  that  next  voyage — which   now  we 

know 
That   some  one  else  would   make,   did   we   go 

home — 

You  saw  the  wreaths  and  wealth  that  you  alone 
Had  really  won,  deck  other  heads  and  hands! 
SANCHEZ.     Well  asked! 
ROLDAN.  Ay,  ay. 

COLUMBUS.  You  had  forgotten  this. 

Well,  now  let  us  forget  what  just  has  happened. 
You  know,  men,  that  the  same  ship  holds  us  all; 
And  all  that  comes  to  you  must  come  to  me. 
ROLDAN.     It  must. 

COLUMBUS.          Then  let  the  matter  rest.     Enough  ! 
Now  to  your  places. 

Exeunt — Left  Side  Front — Left  Side  Rear — 
and  Right  Center — all  except  COLUMBUS, 
who  watches  them  for  a  moment,  then  con 
tinues  speaking  to  himself 

One  more  crisis  passed  ! 

How  many  further  ?— Lord,  how  long  !  how  long  ! 
(Kneels  a  moment,  then  rises  and  looks  off  over  the  sea.) 
Because  a  soul  will  gaze  at  darkness  thus, 
It  does  not  prove  he  sees — mere  habit.     Ah  ! 

(A  slightly  moving  light  appears  through  the 


240  COLUMBUS. 

curtain  backing  at  the  Right,  and  another 
steady  light   at   the  Left  slightly  different 
from  the  first.     COLUMBUS  looks  at  the 
firsl^ 
What  light  is  that?— It  cannot  be  the  Pinta's? 

(Looking  at  the  light  at  the  Left). 
No :  it  sails  there — and  yet — I  thought — why  yes. 

(Looking  to  the  Left). 

The  Nina  is  behind  too. — Yet  this  light — 
(Looking  again  at  the  light  at  the  Right). 
It  cannot  be  a  star  ! — Am  I  deceived  ? 
(Beckoning  to  Left  Side  Rear.) 
Come  this  way,  please,  Don  Gutierrez. 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear — GUTIERREZ. 
GUTIERREZ.  Ay. 

COLUMBUS  (pointing  toward  the  Right  Back). 

Can  you  see  anything  off  there  ? 
GUTIERREZ.  Why  yes — 

The  Pinta. 
COLUMBUS  (pointing  to  the  Left  BacK).      No,   is 

here. 
GUTIERREZ.  Humph!  so  it  is. 

The  Nina  is  ahead,  then? 
COLUMBUS  (pointing  to  Left).     No,  look  back. 
GUTIERREZ.     Yet  some  ship's  light. 
COLUMBUS.  It  could  not  be  a  star? 

GUTIERREZ.     How  could  it  be? 


COLUMBUS.  241 

COLUMBUS.  The  Inspector  there:  ask  him. 

Inspector  ? 
{Calling  to  some  one  beyond  Left  Side  Front). 

Enter— Left  Side  Front—  SANCHEZ. 
SANCHEZ.     Senior  ? 
COLUMBUS  (pointing  to  the  Right  Back). 

Can  you  see  that  light  ? 
SANCHEZ.     Where  ? 

COLUMBUS.  There,  beyond  the  Pinta's. 

SANCHEZ.  Yes.     I  thought 

The  Nina  was  behind  us. 
COLUMBUS  (pointing  to  the  Left). 

So  she  is. 
SANCHEZ.     What  ?  can  another  ship  have  sailed  off 

here  ? 
COLUMBUS.     Another  ship,   eh  ?     Watch  it  further. 

GUTIERREZ.  Why, 

I  think  it  moves. 

SANCHEZ.  It  does ! 

COLUMBUS.  Not  up  and  down 

As  if  on  waves,  but  to  and  fro  ? 

JUTIERREZ.  Just  SO  ! 

HOLUMBUS.     And  some  long  distance  to  and  fro. 

(The  light  makes  this  motion.) 
SANCHEZ.  Shall  call 

The  others  ? 

DOLUMBUS.  No,  not  yet,  no  false  alarm  f 

JUTIERREZ.     You  think  it  land  ? 
DOLUMBUS  (nodding).     Inhabited  by  men. 


242  COLUMBUS. 

GUTIERREZ.     By  men? — Good  God! 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  you  may  well  say  good. 

GUTIERREZ.     I  think  I  see  what  seems  a  line  of  surf. 
COLUMBUS.     Perhaps.     If  so,  the  Pinta  nears  it. 

Wait! 

Is  almost  daybreak.     We  shall  hear  her  gun. 
SANCHEZ.    Your  order  that  a  false  report  would  rob 
The  starter  of  a  chance  to  take  the  prize 
To  be  given  the  first  one  who  discovers  land, 
Will  keep  the  signal  back  till  they  are  sure. 
COLUMBUS.     Best  so !     If  blind  men  all  were  born 

blind,  none 

Were  cursed  by  losing  sight.     In  nights  like  this, 
Not  unawakened  hope  I  dread,  as  much 
As  wakening  disappointment. 

(  The  report  of  a  gun  is  heard. ) 

What?  so  soon? 
SANCHEZ.     It  must  be  true! 
COLUMBUS.  No  doubt  of  it ! 

GUTIERREZ.  No,  none. 

(The    stage  is  gradually  becoming  brighter 
with  the  approaching  dawn.      Voices  of  the 
SAILORS  are  heard.) 
COLUMBUS.     The   sailors !     I  must   go   now.     You 

receive  them ; 

And  wait  till  I  return.     An  hour  as  grand 
As  this  one  should  be  welcomed  fittingly. 
Exit — Left  Side  Second — into  the  cabin,  COLUMBUS. 
Enter — Right  Center— from  the  hold,  ESCOBAR,  ROL- 
DAN,  PINTOR,  and  others. 


COLUMBUS.  243 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear —others. 
(ROLDAN  rushes  to  the  Right,  and  gazes  toivards 

where  the  light  was  first  seen. ) 
ESCOBAR.     A  false  report,  of  course  ! 

PINTOR.  Of  course,  but  then 

ROLDAN.     Good  heavens,  it  is  true! 

ESCOBAR.  True? 

ROLDAN.  There  is  land. 

ESCOBAR.     It  cannot  be. 

ROLDAN.  It  is.     Look  there. 

PINTOR   (contemptuously,    after   looking    not  exactly 

where  ROLDAN  points],     A  cloud. 
ROLDAN.     Cloud?    No.    As  clear  as  daylight,  man. 

Dry  land. 

ESCOBAR.     It  is,  hurrah! 
PINTOR.  You  think  so? 

ESCOBAR.  Are  you  blind? 

Is  no  mistake,  it  is  land! 

(to  the  other  SAILORS). 

Boys,  hurrah  ! 
SAILORS.     Land,  land ! 
ROLDAN.  No  doubt  of  it ! 

SAILORS.  Hurrah  ! 

They  embrace  each   other  and  make  wild  demonstra 
tions  of  delight). 
ESCOBAR     (looking  toward  Left    Side  Second — and 

calling  aloud). 
The  admiral ! 
ROLDAN.  Three  cheers  ! 


244  COLUMBUS. 

PINTOR.  The  admiral ! 

ROLDAN,     He  does  not  know  it  yet  ? 
SANCHEZ.  Trust  him  for  that. 

SAILORS   (shouting). 

The  admiral !     Hurrah  !     The  admiral  ! 
SANCHEZ.     "  All  hail  the  Queen,"  now.     That  will 

fetch  him.     Sing. 
(All  remove  their  caps  and  chant  the  following)  : 

ALL  HAIL  THE  QUEEN.* 

All  hail  the  Queen. 
No  thrills  can  fill  the  lover's  breast 
For  that  first  love  he  loves  the  best, 
Like  ours  that  throb  to  each  appeal 

Of  her  in  whom,  enthroned  above 
The  nation's  heart,  we  see,  we  feel 

The  symbol  of  the  sway  we  love, 

The  while  we  hail  our  Queen. 

All  hail  the  Queen. 
No  cause  can  rouse  the  soul  of  strife 
In  men  who  war  for  child  and  wife, 
Like  ours  that,  where  her  battles  be, 

Know  not  of  rest  until  above 
The  foe  that  falls,  enthroned  we  see 

The  symbol  of  the  sway  we  love, 

The  while  we  hail  our  Queen. 

*  "  The  crew  were  now  assembled  on  the  decks  of  the 
several  ships,  to  return  thanks  to  God  for  their  prosperous 
voyage,  and  their  happy  discovery  of  land,  chanting  the  Salve 
Regina  and  other  anthems.  Such  was  the  solemn  manner  in 
which  Columbus  celebrated  all  his  discoveries."  (Irving's 
Columbus :  Book  VI.,  Chap.  I.) 


COLUMBUS.  245 

All  hail  the  Queen. 
No  loyalty  can  make  a  son 
Show  what  a  mother's  love  has  done, 
Like  ours  who  press  through  land  and  sea, 

Our  one  reward  to  find  above 
Our  gains  that  show  what  man  can  be, 

The  symbol  of  the  sway  we  love. 

The  while  we  hail  our  Queen. 

(  While  this  song  is  being  sung,  the  scenery  at  the 
back  of  the  stage  moves  from  Right  to  Left, 
thus  representing  the  gradual  approach  of 
the  ship  to  land.  Before  the  music  ceases, 
COLUMBUS  appears  in  full  uniform  on  the 
Left  above  the  cabin .  He  is  clothed  in  scarlet. 
Behind  him  stands  a  standard-bearer  hold 
ing  aloft  the  royal  standard,  and  on  either 
side  of  this,  two  others  hold  the  banners  of 
the  enterprise,  emblazoned  with  a  green 
cross  flanked  by  the  letters  F  and  Y,  the 
initials  oj  Fernando  and  Isabel.  (Irving'1  s 
Columbus.  Book  IV.,  Chap.  I.,  also  Book 
VI.,  Chap.  I.) 

ROLDAN  (catching  sight  of  COLUMBUS). 

See  there  ! 

ESCOBAR.         Ah,  there  he  is. 
SAILORS.  Hurrah  !   hurrah ! 

ESCOBAR  (shouting  to  COLUMBUS).  Ay,  you  were  right. 

Were  right! 
ROLDAN.  As  he  is  always! 


246  COLUMBUS. 

ESCOBAR.     I  told  you  so. 
ROLDAN  (aside  to  ESCOBAR). 

You  did  ? — What  time  was  that  ?  i 
PINTOR.     The  Admiral  forever  ! 
ROLDAN  (aside  to  PINTOR). 

Ay,  since  when  ? 
(Shouting  aloud). 

Let  him  remember  who  have  been  his  friends. 
ESCOBAR.     Ay,  that  he  will. 

ROLDAN.  We  knew  you  would  succeed. 

PINTOR.     The  greatest  hour  that  Spain  has  ever 

known. 

ESCOBAR.     Gained   through   the  greatest  man  that  ! 
Spain  has  had. 

(To  the  SAILORS.) 

Here,  swear  him  your  allegiance.     Down,  men, 
down. 

(All  fall  on  their  knees  before  COLUMBUS.) 
COLUMBUS.     I  thank  you,  men,  both  for  myself  and 

those 

Who  sent  us  forth ;  and  join  with  you  to  swear 
Allegiance  to  our  sovereigns — more  than  this, 

(Pointing  to  cross  upon  the  banner), 
To  that  far  higher  Power  that  they  too  serve 
Whose  emblem  is  inscribed  upon  our  banner. 
In  that  we  conquer.     When  we  disembark 
Our  hands  will  plant  the  cross  just  where  we  land. 
And  now — you  seem  exultant — I  confess 
To  awe  like  that  which  Moses  must  have  felt 


COLUMBUS.  247 

When  God's  own  hand  had   touched  him  as  it 

passed. 

I  cannot  stand — nay,  let  me  kneel  with  you 
With  praise,  thanksgiving,   and  new-vowed  devo 
tion 

(They  all  kneel  beneath  the  standard,  and 
while  the  scenery,  moving  behind,  represents 
the  approach  to  land,  after  a  few  mo 
ments  of  silence,  except  for  the  music  of  the 
orchestra,  they  chant  the  following : ) 


O  God  of  all  things  living, 

Our  Sovereign,  Saviour,  Guide, 
All  gifts  are  of  Thy  giving, 
All  gains  by  Thee  supplied. 
The  stars  that  make 
High  aims  awake 
Are  but  what  Thine  eye  seest. 
The  stroke  and  stress 
That  earn  success 
Are  but  what  Thou  decreest. 
O  God  of  all  things  living, 

Our  Sovereign,  Saviour,  Guide, 
All  gifts  are  of  Thy  giving, 
All  gains  by  Thee  supplied. 

O  God,  all  good  bestowing 
On  souls  that  seek  Thy  way, 

Our  hearts,  with  joy  o'erflowing, 
Give  thanks  to  Thee  to-day. 


248  COLUMBUS. 

In  all  the  past 
Whose  blessings  last, 

Thy  presence  fills  the  story  ; 
And  all  the  gleams 
That  gild  our  dreams 

Obtain  from  Thee  their  glory. 

O  God,  all  good  bestowing 
On  souls  that  seek  Thy  way, 

Our  hearts  with  joy  o'erflowing, 
Give  thanks  to  Thee  to-day. 

CURTAIN.     END  OF  ACT  III. 


COLUMBUS.  249 


ACT  FOURTH. 

SCENE  FIRST.  59 — A    room    in  a    house  in    Spain. 
Entrances — Right  Side  and  Left  side. 

Enter — Left  Side — BEATRIX. 
Enter — Left  Side — COLUMBUS  and  DIEGO. 
BEATRIX.     Returned  ?     Thank  God  ! 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  God  alone  could  do  it. 

(to  DIEGO,  as  voices  are  heard  from  without?) 
In  pity  for  me,  Diego,  send  them  off  ; 
And  say  that  I  to-night  will  tell  them  all. 
Exit— Right  Side—  DIEGO. 

(to  BEATRIX.) 

How  fares  our  son,  Fernando? 
BEATRIX.  Grown  and  strong. 

Is  out  just  now — will  not  be  back  till  noon. 
I  thought  you  coming  when  I  heard  the  noise. 
COLUMBUS.    Ah,  yes,  as  I  remember,  when  I  left, 

I  roused  a  noise  too. 
BEATRIX.  You  have  roused  one  now 

That  all  the  world  will  hear. 
COLUMBUS.  You  never  praise 

A  wind,  because  it  makes  the  sea-waves  roar: 
It  may  be  empty,  and  it  may  do  harm. 
A  man  should  judge  men's  noises  at  their  worth. 

59  In  presentation,  this  entire  scene  may  be  omitted. 


250  COLUMBUS. 

BEATRIX.     To  think  I  ever  joined  with  them  against 

you ! 

COLUMBUS.     Why,  what  were  woman's   nature,  void 
of  fine 

Susceptibility  on  edge  to  play 

Society's  deft  weather-vane  ?     You  know 

Society  is  like  the  atmosphere  : 

Is  always  round  us,  and  is  all  alike — 

All  warm  in  sunshine  and  all  chill  in  storm. 

And  you — you  did  not  see  me  at  the  time, 

Surrounded  only  by  my  friends. 
BEATRIX.  If  you 

Had  heard  the  talk ! 

COLUMBUS.  I  heard  too  much  of  it. 

BEATRIX.     You  found  the  land  though  ! 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  and  such  a  land ! 

BEATRIX.     As  fair  as  this  ? 
COLUMBUS.  A  land  of  endless  May, 

And  set  in  seas  transparent  as  their  skies ; 

Where  every  kind  of  spice,  grain,  fruit  and  flower 

Teems  in  green  valleys  that  need  not  be  tilled, 

All  crowned  on  high  by  mounts,  whose  gold  and 
gems 

Lie  on  the  surface. 
BEATRIX.  And  belong  to  you  ! — 

What  joy  to  feel  that  now  it  all  is  over ! 
COLUMBUS.     All  never  will  be  over  in  this  world. 

The  great  care  passes,  but  trails  lesser  cares 

That  aggregate  no  less  of  worry. 


COLUMBUS.  351 

BEATRIX.  True ; 

But  when  the  land  was  found 

COLUMBUS.  One  ship  was  wrecked ; 

And  twice  returning,  too,  we  all  seemed  lost. 

If  so,  the  whole  would  have  been  lost  that  now 

Is  found. 

BEATRIX.  And  then  ? 

COLUMBUS.  I  vowed  a  pilgrimage, 

Wrote  out  our  story.     Like  the  wine  it  was, 

I  sealed  it  in  a  cask,  and  let  it  float. 
BEATRIX.     But  reached  the  land  ! 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  first  at  the  Azores 

As  wet  as  fish,  too.     That  was  why,  perhaps, 

The  Portuguese  there  spread  their  nets  for  us, 

And  not  their  tables. 
BEATRIX.  Nets  ? 

COLUMBUS.  To  trap  us,  yes. 

BEATRIX.     But  why  ? 
COLUMBUS.          To  get  our  charts,  resail  our  course, 

And  claim  the  credit  of  it. 
BEATRIX.  They  could  not 

Have  been  successful. 
COLUMBUS.  Not  if  we  had  lived. 

BEATRIX.     But  yet 

COLUMBUS.        No  but !     Our  ship  was  driven  then 

To  Portugal  itself — by  accident, 

Of  course :  a    storm    came    on — and    there    the 
court 

Were  soft  as  cats  are,  when  they  play  with  mice. 


252  COLUMBUS. 

The    fur,    though,    did    not    wholly   glove   the 
claw, 

Nor  cloak  a  plot  to  murder  us.     It  failed. 

Instead,  Francisco  de  Almeida  sails, 

With  secret  orders  from  the  envious  court, 

To  cross  the  sea,  and  make  our  gain  his  own. 
BEATRIX.     But    Spain   will   right   you,    give   you 

ti  tie  s  ? — f  am  e  ? 

COLUMBUS.     You  rate  them  first? 
BEATRIX.  But  wealth  will  come  with  them. 

COLUMBUS.     If  I  had  worked  for  these,  I  had  not 
lived 

The  life  I  have. 
BEATRIX.     If  you  have  not  worked  for  them 

In  part,  at  least,  you  are  not  what  I  thought. 
COLUMBUS.  How  so? 

BEATRIX.     You  mean  that  you  could  tamely  waive 

Your  rights — your  children's  too — to  fame  and 

wealth? 

COLUMBUS.     I  see — I  had  not  thought. 
BEATRIX.  Oh,  yes;  a  mind 

May  be  so  wholly  filled  with  its  own  thoughts, 

They  crowd  out  thoughts  for  others. 
COLUMBUS.  Think  you  so? 

I  must  correct  the  fault. 
BEATRIX.  You  now  have  time. 

How  sweet  to  settle  down  upon  your  honors ! 
COLUMBUS.     What,  what? — You  think  I  am  pre 
pared  for  that? 


COLUMBUS.  253 

BEATRIX.     You  are  not  young. 
COLUMBUS.  No;  fifty-eight. 

BEATRIX.  Not  strong. 

COLUMBUS.     To-day  there  came  a  letter  from  the 
sovereigns. 

It  begs  my  presence  to  prepare  with  them 

A  second  expedition. 
BEATRIX.  You  to  lead  it? 

You  will? 

COLUMBUS.     Why  not? 

BEATRIX.     Why,  you  have  earned  your  rest. 
COLUMBUS.     From  whence? — I  do  not  feel  it  given 
me  here. 

{Placing  his  hand  on  his  heart. ) 
BEATRIX.     Are  not   content  yet  ?  —  What  an  ap 
petite 

Has  man's  ambition!  all  that  gluts  to-day 

But  bringing  greater  hunger  for  the  morrow; 

A  fire  consuming  all  it  feeds  upon, 

Still  flaming  upward  and  beyond  it  all. 
COLUMBUS.     True! — but  of  more  that  you  apply  it 
to, — 

Of  those  desires  that  are  but  of  the  soul. 

I  strove  to  find  the  Indies.     Are  they  found? 

To  plant  the  cross  in  all  those  lands;  and  yet 

Great  lands  wait  undiscovered. 
BEATRIX.  Other  ships 

Are  sure  to  sail  and  reach  them. 
COLUMBUS.  Ay,  they  may. 


254  COLUMBUS. 

But  all  that  I  can  know  is  that  the  call 
Has  come  to  me. 

BEATRIX.  Well,  well,  if  you  say  must, 

Perhaps  it  must  be.     Still — if  you  be  needed — 
You  think   you  are — mark  one  thing:    you  can 

make 
Your  own  terms  with  the  sovereigns. 

Enter — Right — DIEGO. 
COLUMBUS.  What? 

BEATRIX.  Your  terms — 

Demand  your  rights,  and  mine — your  son's  and 

mine. 

Enter — Left — a  MAID  who  speaks  aside  to  BEATRIX. 
DIEGO    (aside].     Ah,    nothing    like    a    she-hand, 

skill'd  in  needles, 

To  prick  man's  vanity,  and  gown  the  hurt 
In  vain  disguises!     When  unselfish  zeal 
Demands  investment  in  the  mail  of  force, 
He  that  of  old  had  spirit  to  inspire 
Swings  but  a  sword  that  cleaves  a  scar  of  greed. 

(  To  BEATRIX  who  is  looking  toward  him. ) 
As  rich  must  he  be  as  a  king  ere  long. 
That  ought  to  satisfy  you. 

(To  COLUMBUS,  referring  to  the  crowd  outside  the 
house.}  Yes,  I  sent 

Them  off. 

BEATRIX  (to  the  two  men,  as  she  turns  from  talking 
to  the  MAID). 

Excuse  me  for  a  moment 


: 


COLUMBUS.  255 

BEATRIX  bows  to  COLUMBUS  and  DIEGO,  and 
they  bow  to  her.  As  BEATRIX  turns  away, 
DIEGO  begins  to  talk  aside  to  COLUMBUS, 
shaking  his  head  as  if  disapproving  oj 
what  she  has  just  said.  BEATRIX  pauses 
near  Right  Side  Entrance — to  say  aside — 

I 

Must  write  at  once  to  Dona  Bobadilla, 
And  have  her  tell  the  Queen  our  terms — Ours? 

—yes- 
Yes,  he  has  vowed  a  thousand  times  or  more 
That  what  I  wish,  he  wishes.     They  are  ours. 
Exeunt  —  Right — BEATRIX   and  MAID,    who   has 

waited  for  her  just  before  the  door. 
DIEGO  (to  COLUMBUS,  as  if  continuing  a  conversation). 
Will  waive  that  then. — Now  tell  me  of  the  people. 
COLUMBUS.     A  noble  race,  who  live  there  in  a  state 
Almost  of  Paradise,  their  wants  but  few 
And  nature  so  profuse— I  tell  you  truth — 
They  neither  toil  nor  spin. 
DIEGO.  Nor  spin?     Why  how 

About  their  clothing? 
COLUMBUS.  Is  not  needed. 

DIEGO.  What? 

COLUMBUS.     Oh,  you  get  used  to  that! 
DIEGO.  Then  how  about — 

Their  character? 

COLUMBUS.  Is  not  so  much  a  thing 

Of  clothes  as  Europeans  think,  perhaps. 


256  COLUMBUS. 

DIEGO.     But  then 

COLUMBUS.     The  Turks  keep  faces  veiled;  turn  all 
The  body  into  private  parts — what  for? 
If  ill- desire  be  fruit  of  thinking,  germed 
In  curiosity,  to  clear  away 
Some  underbrush,  and  let  in  light  might  help 
To  blight  the  marsh-weed,  and  reveal,  besides, 
Part  of  the  beauty  that  brought  bliss  to  Eden. 

DIEGO.     You  mean 

COLUMBUS.     That  nothing  like  a  length  of  robe, 
Material  in  substance  and  in  sense, 
Can  stole  an  anti-spirit-ministry. 
It  bags  what  heaven  made  that  the  world  may 

deem 

The  bag  well  baited  for  a  game  of  hell. 
DIEGO.     You  talk  in  riddles. 
COLUMBUS.  Read  a  page  or  two 

From  human  nature,  they  are  solved.     Out 

there, 

Except  with  chiefs — it  is  the  same,  you  know, 
With  our  high  classes — people  live  in  pairs, 
As  birds  do  ;  and,  myself,  I  saw  no  hint 
Of  lust  or  competition.     They  all  seem 
To  love  their  neighbors  as  themselves,  and  own 
All  things  in  common.     Why,  to  us  they  gave 
Whatever  we  could  ask  ;  and  often  too 
Without  the  dimmest  prospect  of  return. 
DIEGO.     They  welcomed  you  ? 
COLUMBUS.        They  thought  us  fresh  from  heaven: 


COLUMBUS.  257 

Our  flesh    was    fair ;    that    wide,    wild    sea   our 
slave. 

Oh,  what  a  race  to  be  made  Christians  of ! 
DIEGO.     What  for  ? 

COLUMBUS.      Why,  only  give  such  men  religion 

DIEGO.     With  lives  of  love,  and  welcoming  guests 
from  heaven — 

Where  would  you   find  much  more   in  Christian 
Spain  ? 

COLUMBUS.     Well,  but 

DIEGO.  Precisely  what  I  mean — a  butt. 

COLUMBUS.     You    always    will    be   butting   some 

thing. 
DIEGO.  Yes, 

A  family  trait  with  both  of  us,  I  think. 

Were  I  a  man  of  action  like  yourself, 

I  might  not  doubt  but  do. 
COLUMBUS.  Not  undo,  eh? — 

You  mean  you  doubt  my  statements? 
DIEGO.  Hardly  that, 

But  I  was  thinking 

COLUMBUS.  Thinking  has  its  dangers. 

DIEGO.     Yes,  but  for  it  I  should  have  been  a  priest. 

At  present,  am  confessor  but  to  you. 

And  my  advice  is, — not  to  say  to  others 

What  you  have  said  to  me. 
COLUMBUS.  Why? 

DIEGO.  It  would  make 

The  world  suspect  you. 


258  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.  How? — and  what  ? 

DIEGO.  Why,  say, 

Your  faith. 

COLUMBUS.    Impossible  !    God  knows — they  know— 
The  purpose  of  my  life. — 

DIEGO.  Your  life  !     But  faith — 

Is  not  a  thing  to-day  of  life,  but  talk; 
And  God — He  has  not  much  to  do  with  it. 
A  man  of  faith,  is  one  whose  faith  in  those 
To  whom   he   talks   will    make    him    talk  their 

thoughts. 
None  here  will  think  that  what  you  say  can  be. 

COLUMBUS.     Not  even  you  ? 

DIEGO.  Why,  yes, — but  yes  and  no. 

The  power  that  makes  imagination  burst 
Through  limits  of  our  world,  as  you  have  done, 
To  find   this   new   world,  makes   it  pass  beyond 

them. 

The  glories  of  that  sunset-land  may  all 
Be  in  the  land  you  saw,  or  in  the  sky. 

COLUMBUS.     I  see  your  meaning. 
Enter — BEATRIX — Right. 

DIEGO.  If  your  mounts  of  gold  too 

Do  not  come  tumbling  very  speedily 
To  fill  the  itching  lap  of  Spain,  why  then, 
We  know  who  will  be  blamed. 

COLUMBUS.  Oh,  but  they  will! 

BEATRIX.     Now,  gentlemen,  if  you  will  walk  in  here 
{Motioning  toward  the  Right), 


COLUMBUS. 

kA  luncheon  waits:  and  I  have  news  for  you, 
Both  bright  and  black. 
I    COLUMBUS.       Humph! — nothing  bright  can  come, 

But  brings  beside  it  something  in  the  shade. 
BEATRIX.     The  court,  so  Dona  Bobadilla  writes, 

Will  welcome  you  in  state  at  Barcelona. 
DIEGO.     Well,  that  is  bright.     Now  tell  us  what  is 

black? 
BEATRIX.     That  Pinzon's  crew  has  reached  Bay- 

onne;  and  there 

The  man  has  claimed  your  honors  as  his  own. 
COLUMBUS.     What  perfidy! — Would  make  us   all 

turn  back 

Before  we  found  the  land,  and  after  that 
A  claim  like  this! 
DIEGO.  To  herald  his  delight 

In   what   he   made   you  do! — Yet  not   surpris 
ing! 

The  train  of  genius  marshals  everywhere 
Distrust  before  success,  and  envy  after. 
Exeunt — at  the   Right — BEATRIX,    COLUMBUS    and 
DIEGO. 


SCENE  SECOND. — Surroundings  of  a  Pavilion,  erected 
in  front  of  the  royal  residence  at  Barcelona.  In  the 
extreme  background,  beyond  an  open  place,  is  the  ex 
terior  of  the  house  of  Cardinal  Mendoza.  In  front 


260  COLUMBUS. 

of  this  house,  are  awnings  or  curtains,  which,  at  the 
conclusion  of  SCENE  SECOND,  are  to  be  lifted  or  drawn 
aside  in  order  to  prepare  for  SCENE  THIRD.  To  the 
Right  are  parts  of  the  Palace,  to  the  Left  are  pillars 
supporting  the  Pavilion.  Within  the  Pavilion,  at  the 
Left,  near  the  back  of  stage  but  in  front  of  the  open 
place,  is  an  elevated  platform  on  which  are  four  throne 
chairs.  Nearer  the  Left  Front  of  the  stage  is  a  place 
for  a  choir. 

Entrances : — Right  Side  Rear — into  the  open  place  be 
yond  the  Palace — Right  Side  Front — in  front  of  the 
Palace  ;  Left  Side  Rear — op  en  place  beyond  the  Pavi 
lion — Left  Side  Middle — between  the  pillars  at  the 
Left — and  Left  Side  Front — in  front  of  the  Pavilion. 
The  curtain  rising  discloses  the  KING  and  QUEEN 
and  PRINCE  JUAN,  seated  upon  the  throne,  attended 
by  the  dignitaries  of  their  court  and  the  principal 
nobility  ^/"Castile,  Valentia,  Catalonia  ^^Aragon ; 
also  GONZALEZ,  ARANA,  FONSECA,  BREVIESCA  and 
others.  The  royal  choir  are  at  the  extreme  Left  Front, 
and  spectators  of  the  more  common  sort  at  the  Right 
and  in  the  Rear.  All  seem  enthusiastic. 

Music  by  orchestra  and  choir,  with  the  following  words : 

HAIL  TO  THE  HERO,  HOME  FROM  STRIFE. 

Hail  to  the  hero,  home  from  strife, 
Pride  of  our  hearts  and  hope  of  our  life, 
Hail  to  his  glancing  crest  and  plume, 
Flashed  like  lightning  into  the  gloom. 


COLUMBUS.  26l 

Hail  to  the  grit  that,  when  borne  from  view, 
Out  of  the  darkness  brought  him  through, 
Sprout  of  the  slough-pit,  bud  of  the  thorn, 

After  the  night 

The  light  of  the  morn. 

Crown  him  with  flowers  and  cull  them  bright. 
Crown  him,  the  man  of  the  land's  delight. 

Hail  to  the  hero,  home  from  strife, 
Pride  of  our  hearts  and  hope  of  our  life. 
Hail  to  the  ring  of  the  voice  that  taught 
Drumming  and  roaring  the  rhythm  of  thought. 
Hail  to  the  tone  that  could  change  to  a  cheer 
Groan  and  shriek  of  a  startled  fear, 
Hushing  to  rills  the  flood  that  whirred, 

Chorusing  night 

With  songs  of  the  bird. 

Shout  him  a  welcome,  and  shout  with  might, 
Shout  for  the  man  of  the  land's  delight. 

Enter — Right  side  Rear — during  the  song,  the  follow 
ing  processron  : 

First  come  SOLDIERS  who  march  across  the  stage 
to  Left  Side  Rear — then  halt,  turn  toward 
the  audience,  and  stand  on  guard  at  the 
Rear.     Following  the  soldiers,  surrounded 
by  a  brilliant  throng  of  Spanish  cavaliers, 
comes  COLUMBUS.     He  is  on   horseback, 
but  dismounts  at  the  entrance  of  the  pavil 
ion  and  enters  it.     As  he  does  so,  the  KING 
and  QUEEN    both    rise  to   welcome  him. 


"HE 

UNIVERSE 

or 


262  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS  kneels,  the  KING  instantly  takes 
his  hand  and  motions  to  him  to  seat  him 
self  in  the  vacant  chair  beside  them  on  the 
slightly  elevated  platform.  He  is  the  only 
one  besides  the  KING,  QUEEN  and  PRINCE 
who  is  seated. 

While  the  KING,  QUEEN,  and  COLUMBUS 
continue  to  talk,  there  come  men  bear 
ing  various  kinds  of  parrots  together  with 
stuffed  birds  and  animals  of  unknown 
species  and  rare  plants  supposed  to  be  of 
precious  qualities.  A  display  is  also  made 
of  Indian  coronets,  bracelets,  and  other 
decorations  of  gold.  Last  of  all  come 
Indians  brought  from  America.  They  are 
painted  according  to  their  savage  fashion, 
and  decorated  with  their  national  orna 
ments.  As  those  who  are  in  the  proces 
sion  approach  the  pavilion,  each  in  turn 
salutes  the  KING  and  QUEEN,  who  remain 
sitting,  as  also  does  COLUMBUS. 
{See  Irving' 's  COLUMBUS  :  Book  V. 
Chapter  VI.) 

Enter — Right  Side  Front — DIEGO  and  BEATRIX,  and 
stand  watching  the  ceremonies. 

KING  (just  as  COLUMBUS  seats  himself  beside  him}. 
Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant. 


COLUMBUS.  263 

QUEEN.  Yes, 

The  land  was  where  you  said  it  was. 
COLUMBUS.  Not  more 

Than  eighty  leagues  from  where  I  reckoned  it. 
QUEEN.     A  rich  land  too  ? 

COLUMBUS  (motioning  to  the  attendants  who  in  march 
ing  past,  exhibit,  as  he  mentions  them,  the  differ  - 
ent  objects  which  they  are  carrying]. 

You  see  what  we  have  brought  :— 
These  birds  and  animals  unknown  to  Spain, 
All  promising  vast  wealth  in  plumes  and  furs  ; 
These  trees  and  plants  that  grow  like   reeds  in 

swamps,  9 

And  covered  thick  as  leaves  with  ready  food  ; 
These  aromatic  herbs,  in  which  all  forms 
Of  sickness  find  a  sure  and  natural  cure  ; 
This  gold  that  lies  upon  the  soil  like  dust, 
Or  else  like  pebbles  tumbling  from  the  cliffs, 
And  easily  moulded  into  ornaments  ; 
These  pearls  and  gems  that  line  the  river-beds ; 
Add  these  brave  people,  sons  of  God  like  us, 
With  generous  natures  and  compliant  wills, 
Who  met  us  kneeling,  as  we  knelt  on  shore, 
With  reverent  souls  prepared  by  heaven  itself 
To  welcome  us  as  heavenly  messengers  ; 
And  who  to  be  made  whole  in  holiness 
Need  but  the  cleansing  water  of  the  church. 
Are  these  not  eloquent  beyond  the  power 
Of  mortal  lips  ? 


2  64  COL  UMB  US. 

QUEEN.  They  are. 

KING.  They  are. 

ALL.  Yes,  yes. 

COLUMBUS.     But    what    that    land   contains   is   in 

supply 

As  far  beyond  the  treasure  here,  as  is 
A  whole  vast  continent  beyond  the  store 
That  can  be  packed  in  one  small  vessel.     Yes, 
That  realm  of  boundless  wealth  in  rock  and  soil 
And  boundless  progress  for  the  state  and  soul, 
Past  all  that  human  fancy  can  conceive, 
Lies  there,  embed  in  crystal  seas  and  skies, 
A  wondrous  gift,  fresji  from  the  hand  of  God, 
As  if  untarnished  by  the  touch  of  man, 
Awaiting  your  most  Christian  Majesties. 

KING  (standing,  as  all  do).     Give  God  the  praise. 

PEOPLE.  Thank  God.     Amen,  amen. 

KING  (to  COLUMBUS,  who  when  addressed,  descends 
from  the  platform.}     You   hear  the  people 
and  their  whole-souled  thanks. 
We  but  fulfill  their  wishes,  crowning  you 
With  every  proof  of  royal  approbation. 
We  now  decree  that,  through  all  time  henceforth, 
You  shall  be  known  as  Admiral,  Viceroy, 
And,  if  once  more  you  cross  the  sea  for  us, 
Commander-General  of  all  armaments, 
And  Governor  of  all  realms  awaiting  there, 
The  bearer  of  the  royal  seal,  with  power 
To  name  your  own  successor  and  to  will 


COLUMBUS.  265 

Your  own  inheritance ;  and  evermore 
These  arms  here  are  decreed  your  family. 

Enter — Left  Side  Second — an  attendant  bearing 
a  banner  in  which  the  royal  arms,  the 
castle  and  lion,  are  quartered  with  a  group 
of  islands  surrounded  by  waves  and  under 
them  the  motto  : 

"  To  Castile  and  Leon 

Columbus  gave  a  new  world" 

DIEGO     (at  the  extreme  Right  Front — to  BEATRIX). 

You  think  he  needed  all  those  titles  ? 
BEATRIX.  Why  ? 

DIEGO.     I  think  they  sound  like  you. 
BEATRIX.  Well,  what  of  that  ? — 

He    ought    to   make  his   own   terms   with   the 

sovereigns, — 

Demand  his  rights,  and  mine, — my  son's  and  mine. 
DIEGO.     When  hunting  sometimes,  I  have  found 

that  birds 

Of  brightest  plumage  are  the  soonest  shot. 
This  is  a  world  where  many  men  go  hunting. 
KING  (continuing  to  COLUMBUS). 

And  more  than  this  :  of  all  the  ships  in  Spain 

We  authorize  your  choice  of  which  you  will, 

With  power  to  force  each  captain,  pilot,  crew, 

Or  owner  of  a  vessel,  arms  or  stores, 

To  do  your  bidding ;  and  besides  we  pledge 

Two-thirds  of  all  the  royal  revenues 

Derived  from  our  church  tithes,  and  all  that  comes 


266  COLUMBUS. 

From  confiscating  all  the  property 

Of  all  the  Jews,  whom  now,  to  yield  us  this, 

We  banish  from  our  realm. 

FONSECA.     God  bless  your  Christian  Majesties  ! 

OTHERS.  God  bless  ! 60 

KING.     Now  let  us,  all  together,  seek  the  church, 
And  praise  Him,  as  is  meet  for  these  vast  boons 
Vouchsafed  to  Christian  Spain,  there  to  convert 

(Motioning  toward  the  INDIANS.) 
By  holy  baptism  these  heathen  souls. 

ARANA  (to  FONSECA,  exultingly). 

The  day  begins  when  all  the  earth  and  all 
Its  wealth  shall  be  converted  unto  us. 

Exeunt — Left  Side  Front — KING,   QUEEN,  PRINCE, 
COLUMBUS,  Courtiers,  Indians -,  etc. 

Exeunt — Right  Side  Front — DIEGO,    BEATRIX   and 
others. 

(  While  the  rest  are  leaving  the  choir  chant  as  follows  .•) 

60  COLUMBUS.    You  do  me  honor,  overmuch,  I  fear. 
And  I  too  would  give  praise  where  all  is  due  ; 
And  that  with  deeds,  not  words.     In  view,  this  day, 
Of  all  the  wealth  that,  with  the  power  you  give, 
Is  destined  now  to  come  to  me,  I  vow 
To  raise  and  arm,  inside  of  twice  four  years, 
Four  thousand  horse  and  twice  as  many  foot, 
And  just  as  many  more  in  five  years  more, 
To  drive  to  death  the  heathen  Saracen 
And  wrest  from  him  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

PEOPLE.     Oh,  God  !  we  thank  thee  !  Glory  to  the  Lord  ! 


COLUMBUS.  26; 

Oh  soul,  what  earthly  crown 

Is  bright  as  his  renown 

Whose  tireless  race 
Outruns  the  world's  too  halting  pace, 
To  reach  beyond  the  things  men  heed 
That  which  they  know  not  of,  but  need  ! 

Oh  soul,  what  man  can  be 

As  near  to  Christ  as  he 

Who  looks  to  life 

Not  first  for  fame  and  last  for  strife  ; 
But  shuns  no  loss  nor  pain  that  brings 
The  world  to  new  and  better  things  ! 

Exeunt — Left  Side  Front — Choir. 
Awnings  in  front  of  the  house  <T/*MENDOZA  rise  reveal 
ing  Scene  Third 


SCENE  THIRD  .•  Interior  of  a  banqueting  hall  tn  the 
house  of  MENDOZA.  A  table  crosses  the  stage  at  the 
Rear.  Behind  it  in  the  Center,  on  a  seat  slightly 
raised  above  the  rest,  is  COLUMBUS.  At  the  right 
end  of  the  table  is  MENDOZA  /  at  the  left  end, 
FONSECA  and  BREVIESCA.  Others  arranged  as 
suits  convenience. 

BREVIESCA  (to  FONSECA). 

What  native  here  has  ever  yet  received 

Such  royal  honors  ?— Why,  the  sovereigns  both 

Stood  up  to  greet  him,  hesitated,  too, 

To  let  him  kneel,  and  sat  him  in  their  presence. 

FONSECA.     He  sat,  too,  on  the  throne. 


268  COLUMBUS. 

BREVIESCA.  I  never  saw 

A  Spaniard  treated  thus. 
FONSECA.  He  takes  it  all 

As  if  his  due. 
BREVIESCA.         Wait! — let  me  put  him  down — 

In  thought,  at  least. 
(To  COLUMBUS,  who  sits  playing  with  an  egg  on  the 

table.} 

Say,  Admiral,  do  you  think 
If  you  had  not  made  this  discovery 
That  no  one  else  in  Spain  here  could  have  done 

it? 

COLUMBUS.     That  seems  a  new  idea. 
MENDOZA.  So  it  is. 

COLUMBUS.     I  never  asked  myself  about  that  yet — 
Oh,  by  the  way,  can  any  of  you  here 
Make  this  thing  stand  on  end  ? 

(GONZALEZ,  BREVIESCA  and  FONSECA  begin  to 
experiment,  as  do  others,   with  eggs  lying 
on  the  table  near  them.) 
FONSECA.  An  egg  ? 

COLUMBUS.  An  egg. 

MENDOZA.     Can  it  be  done  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Why,  yes,  you  try  it. 

MENDOZA  (trying).  No ; 

I  give  it  up. 
FONSECA.  And  I. 

COLUMBUS  (to  BREVIESCA). 

You  give  it  up  ? 


COLUMBUS.  269 

BREVIESCA.     I  fail  to  see  how — 
COLUMBUS  (setting  the  egg  down  on  its  small  end  with 
enough  force  to  break  the  shell  and  make  it 
stand). 

Now  you  see  it — there! 
MENDOZA.     Oh! 
BREVIESCA.          That  is  nothing! 
COLUMBUS.  Yes,  like  other  things, 

Is  easy  enough,  when  once  you  see  it  done. 

(Laughter. ) 
CURTAIN.     END  OF  ACT  IV. 


2/0  COLUMBUS. 


ACT  FIFTH. 

SCENE  FIRST  : — A  camp  on  the  Island  of  Hispaniola, 
Backing,  a  clearing,  amid  woods  with  thick  forests 
in  the  distance.  At  Right  and  Left,  trees ;  at  the 
Left  near  the  Front,  the  hut  of  COLUMBUS.  En 
trances  Right  Side  Rear,  Second  and  Front — be 
tween  trees ;  Left  Side  Rear — behind  the  hut  oj 
COLUMBUS  ;  Left  Side  Second— from  inside  of  it, 
Left — Side  Front — between  trees. 

Enter — Right  Side  Rear — ESCOBAR  and  ROLDAN. 

ESCOBAR.     Ojeda,  when  his  boats  were  on  the  coast, 
Said  that  at  home  the  Admiral's  cause  was  lost. 
Our    notes    have    reached    there.     They   have 

learned  at  last, 

How  Spaniards,  ay,  and  Spanish  nobles  too, 
Are  lorded  over  by  this  foreigner. 

ROLDAN.     And  now  he  has  been  superseded  ? 

ESCOBAR.  Yes, 

By  Bobadilla. 

ROLDAN.  Who  is  he  ? 

ESCOBAR  Enough, 

If  but  a  Spaniard. 

61  ESCOBAR.     I  hear  that  Breviesca  and  his  bishop 
Who  was  Fonseca,  now  rule  everything  ; 
That  they  it  was,  who  got  the  crown  to  give 
Ojeda  all  the  Admiral's  charts  and  half 


COLUMBUS.  271 

ROLDAN.  Strange,  though,  all  the  same  ! 61 

ESCOBAR.     You  never  heard  of  the  Admiral's  im 
pudence, 

When  brought  before  the  bishops,  years  ago  ? 
•ROLDAN.  At  Salamanca,  yes  ;  but  he  was  right. 
[ESCOBAR.  Or  how  he  knocked  down  Breviesca, 

when 

Fonseca's  messenger? — Besides,  who  wants 
To  blacken  Spain  with  shade  from  Genoa? 
Well,  Bobadilla's  men  have  come;  and  when 
His  troopers  flash  in  sight  here,  why,  these  eyes 
That  have  been  straining  so  to  see  them  come 
Will  scratch   some  blinks  to   cure  their  vision's 

itching. 
Enter — Right  Side — an   old  INDIAN,  and  advances 

toward  ESCOBAR,  who  addresses  him. 
Humph  !     Who   are  you,   old   cove  ? — What  ? — 

Clear  the  air. 

Stand  off  a  white  man's  shadow. 
INDIAN.  Me  would  see 

The  Admiral. 
ESCOBAR.  Use  your  eyes  then.     Are  you  blind  ? 

INDIAN.     Me  thought  you  know 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear — COLUMBUS,  and  stands  be- 
hind  the  three. 

His  rights  too  ;  and  would  grant  indulgences 
Without  a  stint  if  they  could  have  their  way 
To  any  here  who  struck  him  down. 
ROLDAN.  Why  so? 


272  COLUMBUS. 

ESCOBAR.     What  right  had  you  to  think? 
And  if  we  know,  is  it  our  business 
To  do  your  errands  for  you? 
(INDIAN,  seeing  COLUMBUS,  passes  toward  Left  Side 

Rear.) 
ROLDAN  (laughingly  to  ESCOBAR). 

Settled  him. 
COLUMBUS  (to  INDIAN). 
What  now? 
INDIAN  (to  COLUMBUS). 

Me  wants  to  see  you. 
COLUMBUS  (motioning  toward  his  cabin). 

Yes,  but  wait 
In  there  a  moment,  please. 


62  The  trenches  must  be  dug,  and  no  delay. 

They  threaten  an  attack. 
ROLDAN.  Am  I  a  man 

For  work  like  that  ? 
COLUMBUS.  Like  what  ? 

ESCOBAR.  The  work  that  lets 

These  common  laborers  wipe  their  dirty  paws 

Upon  one's  coat. 

COLUMBUS.  Then  take  it  off. 

ROLDAN.  Ay,  ay  ; 

And  grovel  at  their  level. 
COLUMBUS.  Does  your  rank 

Depend  upon  your  coat  ? — pray  heaven  that  you 

Be  born  again,  a  new  man  and  a  true  one. 
ROLDAN.     You  did  not  promise  this  work,  when  we 
sailed. 


COLUMBUS.  273 

Exit — Left  side — into  the  hut  of  COLUMBUS,  the  IN 
DIAN.     COLUMBUS  goes  on  to  ESCOBAR. 

It  would  be  wise 

To  keep  the  red-men  friends;  and  friendship's  light 
Reflects  but  what  is  kindled  in  ourselves. 
Extinguish  it  within,  and  soon  without 
We  find  our  world  in  darkness. — Now,  to  work.82 
Exeunt — Right  Side — ROLDAN  and  ESCOBAR. 
COLUMBUS     (going  to  his   cabin   and  motioning  the 

INDIAN  to  come  out.) 
Well  now,  my  friend,  what  is  it  ? 
INDIAN.  White  man  kill 

Our  men  and  steal  our  women. 


COLUMBUS.     The  Spaniards  had  not  shown  their 

lust  and  greed, 

Defiled  the  native  women,  killed  the  men, 
And,  sent  in  squadrons  to  preserve  the  peace, 
All  grasping  for  the  whole  of  all  they  saw, 
Beset  their  comrades  like  a  set  of  bulls 
Becrimsoned  with  each  other's  gore.     Mere 

brutes ! 

No  wonder  they  have  disenchanted  thus 
The  people  who  at  first  believed  them  gods. 
Now  get  you  gone — no  waiting  ! 

COLUMBUS  (turns  toward  his  hut). 
ESCOBAR  (aside,  shaking  his  fist  at  COLUMBUS'S  back}. 

Yes,  until 
We  too  get  you  gone,  which  will  not  take  long. 


2/4  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.  Yes — and  I  ? 

INDIAN.     Kill  white  man. 

COLUMBUS.     What  ? 

Enter — Left  Side  Rear — BARTHOLOMEW,  and  stands 

by  COLUMBUS. 

INDIAN.  We  Injun  call  you  men 

Great-Spirit-men.     Poor  Injun  when  he  die, 
When  bad  go  here,  when  good  go  there, 
(Pointing first  down  and  then  up) 
COLUMBUS.  What,  you — 

You  Indians  think  this  ? 
BARTHOLOMEW.  I  shall  write  that  home. 

Is  more  than  some  there  seem  to  think. 
COLUMBUS.  It  is. 

(To  INDIAN.) 

And  what  of  that,  my  friend? 
INDIAN.  White-spirit-chief 

Send  bad  men  here  and  good  men  there. 
(Pointing  first  down  and  then  up.) 
COLUMBUS.  I  see — 

Put  down  the  bad,  put  up  the  good.     Quite  right ! 
And  I  will  try  to  learn  the  lesson,  friend. 
INDIAN  (pointing  in  a  half-frightened  way  toward  the 

Right). 
Bad  man  come  there. 

(BARTHOLOMEW  steps  toward  the  Right]. 
COLUMBUS.      Humph,  humph,  please  leave  us  then  ; 
And  wait  in  here  again. 

(Motioning  toward  his  hut) 


COLUMBUS.  2/5 

Ixit — Left  Side — into  the  hut,  INDIAN,     COLUMBUS 
turns  toward  BARTHOLOMEW. 

Whom  have  we  coming  ? 
JARTHOLOMEW.     A  crowd  of  captives — women,  as  I 

think. 

The  men  with  them  are  Roldan's. 
COLUMBUS.  Only  force 

Can  deal  with  them; — are  all  old  criminals. 
Suppose  you  bring  a  guard  here. 
BARTHOLOMEW.  Yes,  I  will. 

Exit — Left  Side  Front — BARTHOLOMEW. 
DOLUMBUS  (looking  toward  the  Right). 
Humph! — one  of  them  seems  coming  on  alone. 
That  makes  it  easier! — is  Pintor,  too! 
Enter — Right  Side — PINTOR.      COLUMBUS  speaks  to 
him. 

You  back  ?     What  have  you  brought  ? 
PINTOR.  Some  household  gods. 

COLUMBUS.     Whose  are  they  ? 
PINTOR.  Ours. 

COLUMBUS.          Oh,  yours  ? — how  came  they  yours  ? 
PINTOR.     By  right  of  conquest. 
COLUMBUS.  What  ? 

PINTOR.  We  killed  their  men. 

COLUMBUS.    And  left  them  widows  ? 
PINTOR.  No  ;  we  made  them  brides. 

We  thought  this  kinder  than  to  leave  them  widows. 
COLUMBUS.     Law-breakers! 


276  COLUMBUS. 

PINTOR.  Pugh  !  with  all  that  you  have  seized, 

Made  slaves  of,  sent  to  Spain  and  sold 

COLUMBUS.     But  they  were  captives  from  our  foes. 
Enter  —  Left    Side  Rear  —  BARTHOLOMEW, 
GUTIERREZ  and  a  guard  who   cross  the 
stage  at  the  back,    and  march   forward 
between  PINTOR  and  the  Right  Side. 
PINTOR.  Well  I 

Take  any  man  who  flushes  red  all  over, 
As  they  do  when  I  meet  them,  for  a  foe. 
COLUMBUS.    The  slaves  we  sent  to  Spain  were  taken 

there 

To  be  made  Christians  of. 
PINTOR.  And  so  with  us — 


63  And  let  them  lead  a  free  and  easy  life. 
COLUMBUS.     You  fail  to  see  the  danger  ?    Why, 

their  tribe 

Will  massacre  us  all ;  if  not,  your  vices 
Will  bring  you  hell  here,  even  while  you  live. 
PINTOR.  You  know  my  story — was  condemned  to  death— 
For  nothing,  though — and  then  the  court  decreed, 
Instead  of  this,  that  I  should  come  out  here  ; 
And  if  I  make  it  hell,  it  seems  to  me, 
In  hell  is  where  they  want  me. 
COLUMBUS  (to  GUTIERREZ). 

Take  this  man, 
Remove,  etc. 

64 (TV  PINTOR.) 

Hereafter  keep  a  hold  upon  your  tongue. 
PINTOR.     Ay,  Senior  ;  but  be  not  so  hard  on  me. 


COLUMBUS.  277 

Nice  Christians,  too  ;   for  we  shall   have    them 

washed 
I  And   not  made   slaves,  but   take  them   to   our 

homes,83 
COLUMBUS  (to  GUTIERREZ). 

Take  this  man, 

Remove  his  arms,  and  march  him  to  the  works.64 
Exeunt — Right — GUTIERREZ    and    SOLDIERS   with 

PlNTOR. 

COLUMBUS  continues  to  BARTHOLOMEW. 
No  man  can  tell  which  curse  a  country  most  ; — 
Its  gentlemen  who  feel  above  all  work  ; 
Or  workmen  so  far  down  they  feel  beneath 
All  obligation  to  be  gentlemen. 
As  for  the  first,  heaven  grant  they  soon  find  out 


This  land  needs  peopling. 
BARTHOLOMEW.  And  will  need  it  more, 

If  Spain  send  more  of  those  vile  wretches  here. 

We  all  may  be  killed  off. 
COLUMBUS.  And  rightly  so. 

BARTHOLOMEW.     Had  I  my  way,  a  brute  forever 
kicking 

Against  the  law  should  go  in  bit  and  bridle  ; 

Ay,  ay,  to  see  a  surgeon  too.     A  touch 

Of  horse-play — there  were  cuttings  that  would 
cure  him 

And  all  his  kind.     The  best  should  let  their  land 

Be  peopled  only  by  the  best. 
COLUMBUS.  That  might 

Be  wise  ;  but  where,  pray,  would  you  find  the  best  ? 


2/8  COLUMBUS. 

That  this  new  world  is  not  a  place  for  them. 
As  for  the  second,  if  we  plan  no  way 
To  keep  them  on  the  other  side  the  sea, 
Farewell  to  all  the  good  we  hope  for  here.65 

{Noises  outside?) 
What  noise  is  that — a  riot  ? 

BARTHOLOMEW  (who  with  COLUMBUS  looks  towan 
Left  Side).     No  ; — are  cheers 


65  Enter — Right  Side — GUTIERREZ. 
What  now  ? 
GUTIERREZ  (handing  COLUMBUS  a  note). 

We  found  this  when  we  searched  him. 
COLUMBUS.  Ay  ? 

It  seems  not  mine. 
GUTIERREZ.  Perhaps  it  might  be  well 

For  you  to  read  it. 
COLUMBUS  (reading  it}. 

So?-- 1  will.     Why,  why? 
(To  BARTHOLOMEW.) 
Bartholomew,  a  new  conspiracy  ! 
BARTHOLOMEW.     But  that  man  could  not  write. 
COLUMBUS.  Oh  no  ;  not  he  ! 

He  merely  carries  it  from  one  who  can. 

(Handing  the  note  to  BARTHOLOMEW.) 
This  time,  it  seems  the  high  and  low  will  meet, 
And  we,  between  them,  will  be  crushed. 
BARTHOLOMEW  (threateningly).  Perhaps. 

COLUMBUS.     It  speaks  about  another  fleet  in  port. 
I  thought  the  treachery  that  had  given  my  charts 


COLUMBUS. 


279 


COLUMBUS.     You  make  them  out? 
BARTHOLOMEW.  Why,  all  the  town  is  there! 

And  look — our  prisoners  too ! 
COLUMBUS.  What — those  condemned 

To  death? 
BARTHOLOMEW.     Ay,  ay;  and  have  the  leadership ; 

And  with  them — can  it  be? — it  is!  there  come 

The  San  Domingo  traitors. 


And  right  to  govern  islands  west  of  here 

To  Pinzon  and  Ojeda  was  enough. 

This  tells  of  one  who  claims  a  jurisdiction 

In  our  own  island. 
BARTHOLOMEW.  Bobadilla,  yes. 

What  will  you  do? 
COLUMBUS.  Divide  and  conquer. 

( To  GUTIERREZ.)     Here  ! 
GUTIERREZ.     Ay,  ay. 

COLUMBUS.     To  chains  with  all  those  named  in  this. 
(Handing  GUTIERREZ  the  note.) 

The  most  should  be  at  home  now.     Be  alert. 

Exit — Right  Side — GUTIERREZ. 

(To  BARTHOLOMEW.) 

Bartholomew,  the  rest  of  those  condemned 

For  sharing  in  that  last  conspiracy, 

Whom  our  too  willing  clemency  had  spared, 

Should  be  brought  out  to-day  and  shot. 

BARTHOLOMEW.  But  then 

COLUMBUS.     I  see  no  other  way.     When  mercy  fails 

The  cause  is  lost  that  does  not  call  on  justice. 


280  COLUMBUS. 

COLUMBUS.  Is  that  so  ? 

(Looking  toward  Right  Side.) 
Here,  here  ! 
Enter— Right  Side—  GUTIERREZ  with  the  SOLDIERS 

and  PINTOR. 

Ay,  steady  now.     Stand  there.     On  guard. 
BARTHOLOMEW  (Still  looking  toward  the  Left). 

They  halt,  consulting. — What  ?     Can  that  be  he  ?— 
Velasquez,  our  sub-treasurer !      Not  so  ? 
Juan  de  Travierra,  too  ! 
COLUMBUS.  How  strange  ! 

Why,  they  were  friends  ! 66 

Enter — Left — VELASQUEZ  and  SANCHEZ,  soon  fol 
lowed  by  ESCOBAR,  ROLDAN,  SOLDIERS,  and 
a  Rabble.  COLUMBUS  continues 

Well,  have  you  business  here  ? 

VELASQUEZ.     We  have  been  sent 

COLUMBUS.  True  men  are  never  sent 

By  their  inferior.     They  will  face  him  down  ; 


66— and  yet 

BARTHOLOMEW.  Have  left  the  rest — 

Are  coming  here. 
COLUMBUS.  Alone  ? 

BARTHOLOMEW.  I  think  so. 

COLUMBUS.  Yes. 

I  recognize  them  now.     It  must  be  they. 

But  how  to  solve  now  what  it  means  ! — Can  you  ? 
BARTHOLOMEW.     Who  could  ? — The  others  have 
begun  to  follow. 


COLUMBUS,  28l 

And  not  turn  tail  like  driven  beasts  of  burden. 

VELASQUEZ.     You  do  not  know  our  message. 

COLUMBUS.  One  may  judge 

A  message  from  its  messengers.     I  see 
A  crowd  of  common  criminals.     Were  they 
Set  free  by  you,  yourselves  are  criminals. 

/ELASQUEZ.     Your  pardon  ;  but 6T 

"OLUMBUS.  I  am  the  Viceroy. 

Traitors  to  him  are  traitors  to  the  king. 

/ELASQUEZ.     You  may  not  be  this  now. 

COLUMBUS.  What  mean  you  ? 

/ELASQUEZ   (handing  him  an  official  paper  of  which 

he  holds  many).    Here, 
Is  from  the  court. 

UOLUMBUS     (taking  and  reading  it). 

'An  outrage !     Yet  but  gives 
This  Bobadilla — who  ?  and  what  is  he  ? — 
Authority  to  make  investigations. 

COLUMBUS.  Aha  !  They  think  that  these  will  seem 

our  friends  ; 

And  make  an  opening  through  which  all  can  enter. 
What  keener  point  could  treachery  find  to  edge 
Its  wedge  of  enmity,  than  tried  old  friendship  ? 

( To  the  GUARD.)    Make  ready.— Wait. 

67  COLUMBUS.     You  should  have  asked  for  that 
Before  you  freed  your  pals  there.     No  one  here 
Can  have  the  right  to  pardon  men  but  me. 

VELASQUEZ.     Yet  you  mistake 


282  COLUMBUS. 

Insulting! — There  is  here  no  grant 

For  freeing  captives  that  have  been  condemned 
VELASQUEZ  (handing  COLUMBUS  another  roll). 

They  sent  another  paper. 
COLUMBUS  (receiving  and  reading  it). 

That  I  yield   ! 

All  arms  and  ships  and  royal  property — 

Yes,  yes,  if  the  investigation  warrants — 

It  will  not  though. 

VELASQUEZ.  Ah,  but  he  says  it  does. 

COLUMBUS      It  does?     Why,   I  have   never  seenj 
this  man. 

VELASQUEZ.       He  has  investigated. 

COLUMBUS.  What? 

VELASQUEZ.  Your  papers. 

COLUMBUS.     My  papers? — Which  and  where? 
VELASQUEZ.  Those  in  your  house. 

COLUMBUS.     He  entered  that? 
VELASQUEZ.  He  lives  there. 

COLUMBUS.  In  my  house  ?— 

And  reads  my  private  papers  ? 
VELASQUEZ.  They  were  found, 

While  carrying  out  his  other  orders. 
COLUMBUS.  More  ? 

VELASQUEZ    (handing  other  papers  to  COLUMBUS). 

Yes,  these. 
COLUMBUS     (receiving  and  reading  them). 

That  I  should  pay  all  wages  due 

With  all  arrears  for  royal  services — 

What  then  ? 


COLUMBUS.  283 

VELASQUEZ.     He  takes  them  from  your  property. 
COLUMBUS.     Without    a   word   to   me  ? — Why   this 

means  ruin  ! 

And  who  decides  the  claims  ? — a  man  without 
The  means  or  inclination,  as  it  seems, 
To  know  the  truth  ? — whose  first  official  act 
Is  making  friends  by  setting  traitors  free  ? 
And  violating  both  the  laws  of  Spain 
And  common  courtesy  ? — It  is  too  much. 
Away,  and  tell  him  I  defy  him.     Say, 
With  all  the  rabble  that  are  back  of  him, 
Enough  are  here  yet  that  are  loyal  still 
To  Spain  and  me,  to  crush  one  traitor  more. 
VELASQUEZ.  I  fear  the  loyal  must  be  all  against  you. 

(Handing  COLUMBUS  another  paper?) 
Read  this : — a  royal  patent  that  invests 
This  Bobadilla  with  all  power  and  right 
Of  governing  these  islands. 
COLUMBUS     (looking  at  the  paper]. 

Royal  seals  ? 
It  cannot  be — but  yet — 

(Handing  the  paper  to  BARTHOLEMEW.) 
Can  it  be  true  ? 

I  knew  that  we  had  enemies ;  but  not 
That  they  could  be  so  powerful. 
BARTHOLEMEW.  Shall  we  fight? 

COLUMBUS.     It   might  be   useless  ;  and  it  must  be 

wise 
To  keep  the  right,  when  with  us,  with  us  yet. 


284  COLUMBUS, 

No;  let  us  yield.     My  brother,  there  are  times 
When  wrongs  are  great  that  they  may  be  per 
ceived, 

And  emphasize  the  need  of  their  redress.68 
VELASQUEZ.     There  is  another  order. 
COLUMBUS.  Eh? 

VELASQUEZ.  Is  with 

This  officer. 

( gesturing  toward  SANCHEZ.) 
SANCHEZ  (advancing  slowly  toward  COLUMBUS). 

My  orders — not  desire. 
COLUMBUS.     Am   I  to  die    for   serving  Spain   so 

well? 
SANCHEZ  (to  both  COLUMBUS  and  BARTHOLEMEW). 

Not  that — Your  swords. 

COLUMBUS     (as  he  and  BARTHOLEMEW  give  up  their 
swords ',  as  does  also  GUTIERREZ). 

But  worse  than  that ! — What  next  ? 
SANCHEZ     (motioning  to  a    SOLDIER  who  brings  for 
ward  some  handcuffs?) 
I  act  but  for  the  court. 


68 '(Turning  to  GUTIERREZ  and  the  GUARD.) 
My  men,  this  royal  patent  takes  from  me 
The  government  ;  bestows  what  powers  were 

mine 

On  Bobadilla.     All  the  loyalty 
Once  shown  to  me,  for  which  my  gratitude 
Will  always  thank  you,  now  belongs  to  him. 


COLUMBUS.  285 

COLUMBUS.  Are  those  for  me? 

What  crime  have  I  committed  ? 
SANCHEZ.  I  know  none. 

COLUMBUS.     I  said  I  would  submit.     You  doubt  my 

word  ? 

Or  courage  ? — or  persistency  ? — or  what  ? 
SANCHEZ.     You  must  return  to  Spain. 
COLUMBUS.  In  chains? — Who  dares 

To  place  them  on  me? 

(looking  at  SANCHEZ  and  his  GUARD.) 
SANCHEZ  {hesitating  and  looking  around). 

There  are  large  rewards 
For  him  that  does  it.     They  are  offered. — Speak. 

(to  COLUMBUS.) 
We  all  are  friends,  you  see. 
PINTOR.  Not  all;  not  all! 

(taking  the  handcuffs^) 
Here,  let    me    have    them,    boys — am  used  to 

them. 

A  fair  man  gives  what  he  receives,  not  so  ? 
(Puts  them  on  COLUMBUS.) 

GUTIERREZ.     No,  never. 
GUARD.  No. 

Enter— Left  Side— SANCHEZ,  SOLDIERS,  ESCOBAR, 

ROLDAN  and  a  rabble. 

COLUMBUS.  It  seems  the  sovereigns'  will. 

Help  me  by  sharing  with  me  what  I  bear. 

(to  VELASQUEZ.) 
Inform  the  governor  we  await  his  wishes. 


286  COLUMBUS. 

Here,  curse  you  !     Now  fall  overboard,  and  these 
Will  sink  you,  as  we  meant  to,  years  ago. 

(Turning  to   BARTHOLEMEW   and  fastening  another 

pair  on  him) 
Now  you  too. 

RABBLE.  Ho,  ho,  ho  ! 

COLUMBUS  (to  BARTHOLEMEW). 

Bartholemew, 

A  single  bracelet  is  enough,  men  think, 
To  show  a  common  gratitude.     But  we, 
Why,  we  have  two!     They  think  their  debt 
To  us  a  doubled  one!     How  it  will  thrill 
Ambition  in  the  future  sons  of  Spain 
To  learn  what  badges  of  true  servitude 
Await  the  souls  that  serve  her  best.     We,  we, 
Who  made  of  Spain  the  Empress  of  the  West, 
Have  weightier  honors  waiting  us, — to  be 
The  slaves  that,  crushed  to  earth,  will  pedestal 
The  towering  contrast  of  her  sovereignty. 

Exeunt — Left  Side  Front — SANCHEZ,  his    SOLDIERS, 

COLUMBUS  and  BARTHOLEMEW. 
Exeunt — to  Left  and  Right — OMNES. 


SCENE  SECOND — A  court  belonging  to  a  house  in 
Seville.  Backing,  and  at  the  Right,  parts  of  the 
building  on  either  side  of  the  court.  The  same 
at  the  Left,  but  near  the  Left  Front  entrance  a 


COLUMBUS.  287 

chair  or  two  and  a  sofa  with   one  end  raised  on 
which  to  rest  the  head. 

Entrances — at  Right  Side — and  Left  Side. 
(Enter — Right  Side — DIEGO  and  BEATRIX.) 

DIEGO.     You  must  not  talk  about  his  poverty. 

BEATRIX.     Why  not  ? 

DIEGO.  Will  kill  him. 

BEATRIX.  I  am  nursing  him. 

DIEGO.     Yes,  all  that  grows  toward  death. 

BEATRIX.  If  he  had  been 

Content — had  left  the  land  to  others,  when 

Once  found 

i DIEGO.          What?     Can  a  mother  leave  her  child, 

When  born — no  more?     Far   less   the  land  he 
sought, 

Than  those  grand  hopes  that  he  had  based  on  it 

As  a  foundation. 
BEATRIX.  These  he  might  have  watched 

As  well  at  home  here. 
DIEGO.  Why,  I  thought  it  you 

Who  urged  him  on  to  wealth.     The  wealth  was 
there. 

And  how  about  those  titles?     All  of  them 

Were  labels  not  of  use  unless  he  sailed. 
BEATRIX.     Why  did  he  use  them  arbitrarily? 
DIEGO.    Less  use  than  their  possession  gave  offense. 

Besides,  we  men  are  trained  in  government 

As  well  as  manners.     And  the  curse  of  force 


288  COLUMBUS. 

Is  that  its  own  mean  methods  keep  alive 

Its  first  excuse  for  being.     Tyranny 

May  make  of  chaos  order;  but,  when  throned, 

Knows  not  a  subject  that  is  not  a  slave. 

Would  one  of  those  o'er  whom  my  brother  ruled, 

Have  bent  the  knee  to  an  authority 

Not  ermined  in  the  old  familiar  guise 


69  DIEGO.  Did  I  so  ? 

BEATRIX.     And  it  came  true — as  often  so  with 

you — 

Not  that  I  like  you  better  for  it,  though. 
DIEGO.     My  words  come  true,  eh  ? — One  might 

think  they  would  ; 

So  few  regard  them  !     It  is  one  sure  test 
Of  prophets  that  they  prophesy  in  vain. 

BEATRIX.     You  might  have  urged  your  brother 

DIEGO.  Oh,  not  I! 

I  never  urge  myself. 

BEATRIX.  But  when  you  know — 

DIEGO.     Imagine  only — not  the  same  as  knowing  ', 
Imagination  dreams  :  its  dreams  anon 
May  leap  Time's  processes,  or,  keen-eyed,  spy 
The  end  from  the  beginning.     Yet  such  dreams 
Come  but  to  him  so  stirred  in  sympathy 
With  nature's  courses,  or  inspired  in  aim 
For  nature's  goals,  or  swept  on  by  its  force, 
That  sheer  inertia  of  the  soul  outspeeds 
The  pace  of  grosser  matter. 
BEATRIX.  And  to  you 

At  times 


COLUMBUS.  289 

Of  arbitrariness? 
BEATRIX.  Had  he  conceived 

How  all  would  end! 

DIEGO.  It  could  not  be  conceived. 

BEATRIX.     But  you  conceived  it. 
DIEGO.  I? 

BEATRIX.  Why,  yes.     You  spake 

Of  envy  sure  to  follow.69 


DIEGO.         The  times  come  seldom.     Ay,  not  oft 
Do  fancy's  flowers  foretoken  fruit  ;  not  oft 
Is  ripe  fruit  laden  on  the  limbs  that  bloom 
Most  brilliant  with  the  flowers. — Yet  have  I  seen 

it,— 

Imagination  imaging  true  life, 
Life  true  to  all  its  images  ;  and  then 
I  found  a  seer,  earth's  rarest  product. 

BEATRIX.  That 

Is  what  some  say  that  you  are. 

DIEGO.  To  be  true 

To  life,  when  all  the  men  that  have  life  doubt  me 
I  ought  to  join  with  them,  and  doubt  myself. 

BEATRIX.     In  that  you  are  not  like  your  brother. 

DIEGO.  No  ; 

With  him  quick  action  follows  on  the  thought. 
With  me  come  only  talk,  and  then  more  thought. 
He  mounts  to  find  success.     I  prophesy — 
Perhaps  ;  but  where  success  is,  at  my  best, 
Am  only  of  the  crowds  that  cheer  it. 
(Looking  to  the  Left.} 


2QO  COLUMBUS. 

Enter — Left  Side — COLUMBUS,  attended  by  his 
two  sons,  YOUNG  DIEGO,  a  man,  and 
FERNANDO,  a  youth.  COLUMBUS  with 
help  is  seated  on  the  sofa.  DIEGO  continues 
to  COLUMBUS. 

Well,  what  news  ? 

COLUMBUS.     A  new  world  has  been  found  of  bound 
less  wealth  ; 

And  he  who  found  it,  finds  himself  a  beggar. 
A  king  and  queen  were  throned  o'er  that  new 

world. 
Who  throned  them  there,  they  seized  and  bound 

in  chains. 
DIEGO.     Oh,  yes;  but  then  the  chains  were  taken 

off. 
COLUMBUS.     A  nation  has  been   made   the  first  on 

earth. 

Who  made  it  this,  for  this  deed  has  been  made 
The  last  in  all  that  nation — not  one  shred 
Of  all  his  property,  or  power,  or  rank, 
Stripped  by  injustice  from  him,  when  well  proved 
To  be  injustice,  has  been  given  back. 

Here 

He  comes,  poor  man — his  faithful  sons  too.     How 
I  love  them  for  their  faithfulness  !     Alas, 
How  fast  he  fails  !     If  there  were  once  a  time 
We  feared  he  might  be  wrecked,  a  time  has 

come 
When  his  firm  spirit  reels,  the  prey  of  waves 


COLUMBUS.  291 

His  name  he  leaves  dishonored,  and  his  heirs 
Inherit  nakedness. 

BEATRIX.  Yes,  that  is  it. 

You  see  if  he 

DIEGO  (gesturing  violently  to  silence  BEATRIX). 

Not  now.     The  time  will  come . 

BEATRIX  (suddenly  turning  her  back  upon  DIEGO  and 

speaking  to  herself). 
Oh,  when  he  prophesies,  I  always  fear 
That  he  will  prophesy  some  ill  of  me. 
Exit — Left  Side — BEATRIX. 

DIEGO  (to  COLUMBUS). 

Nay;   nothing   now  can   dim  your  well-earned 
fame. 

COLUMBUS.     A  man  who  gave  his  life  for  what  to  all 
Appeared  impossible,  attained  it,  then 
Found  charts  and  notes  that  told  the  story,  stolen, 
And  that  which  was  his  own  discovery, 
Called  not  by  his  own  name  but  by  another's. 

DIEGO.     Yes,  it  is  very  strange. 

COLUMBUS.  So  very  strange 

It  seems  that  when  I  think  it  can  be  true, 


Far  worse  than  waves  that  sweep  the  sea  alone. 
Such  havoc  has  fierce  envy  wrought  in  him, 
What  wonder  if  soon  nature,  in  revolt, 
Should  doff  the  guise  this  world  has  torn  to 

rags 
And  give  him  something  richer  ? 


COLUMBUS. 

I  pause  to  listen  to  the  morning  bells 
To  wake  me  from  a  dream. 

DIEGO.  It  is  a  dream. 

The  force  that  keeps  eternal  worth  from  light 
Is  but  of  time — a  thing  short-lived. 

COLUMBUS.  I  know — 

Were  it  not  for  my  children. 

YOUNG  DIEGO.  They  are  proud 

Of  one  who,  all  his  life-time,  has  kept  faith 
With  his  own  soul,  however  left  alone. 

COLUMBUS.     Alone,  and  yet  not  lonely.     Be  one 

true 

To  his  own  mission,  he  is  in  the  ranks 
With  all  that  move  toward  all  good  ends  that  wait. 

{Looking  at  his  sons. ) 

And  but  for  you — think  not  I  lived  my  life 
To  beg  men  for  a  badge  to  brag  about! 
Enough,  if  I  have  been  an  influence. 

DIEGO.     Ay,  that  is  all  that  God  is. 

COLUMBUS.  God? 

DIEGO.  Yes,  God. 

What  voice,  or  face,  or  form,  or  robe,  or  crown, 
Or  throne  attests  His  Presence?  Who  can  trust 
And  serve  mere  outward,  sensuous  things  like 

these, 

And  not  be  all  through  life — ay,  out  of  it 
And  even  after  death — a  slave  to  sense, 
No  brother  of  the  Christ,  no  son  of  God? 
(COLUMBUS  suddenly  falls  back  upon  the  sofa.) 


COLUMBUS.  293 

FERNANDO.     See — he  is  fainting! 
YOUNG  DIEGO.  Help  him! 

DIEGO.  What  is  this? 

Why,  Christopher! 
(To  the  sons  as  all  three  bend  over  COLUMBUS.) 

Go,  call  a  doctor — priest ! 
Exeunt — Left  Side  Front — the  two  sons.) 
COLUMBUS  (reviving  and  pointing  toward  the  center  of 

stage]. 

The  new  world — you  must  watch  it — it  will  grow. 
Hark — there  are  words  I  hear — and  look — FELIPA  ! 
O  Lord,  to  thy  hands  I  commit  my  spirit. 

(COLUMBUS  sinks  in  death  supported  by  DIEGO, 
who  does  not  seem  to  notice  what  follows, 
being  wholly  absorbed  in  attending  to 
COLUMBUS.) 


SCENE  THIRD: — The  curtain  forming  the  back  of 
Scene  Second  rises  disclosing  at  the  Left  the  same 
convent  chapel  and  wall  that  occupy  that  place  in 
Act  First,  Scene  First.  The  convent  wall,  however, 
extends  across  the  stage  to  the  Right,  and  the  whole 
Scene  is  backed  by  a  distant  view  of  a  fertile,  cul 
tivated,  and  populous  country,  including  mountains 
and  valleys,  rivers  spanned  by  bridges,  and  low  lands 
filled  with  towns  and  cities,— all  representing  the 
present  condition  of  the  western  continent.  Near 


2Q4  COLUMBUS. 

the  entrance  of  the  chapel,  stands  FELIPA,  gazing 
toward  this  land,  while,  by  a  choir  unseen  within 
the  chapel,  the  same  hymn  is  chanted  as  that  with 
which  the  drama  opens,  as  follows  : 

O  Life  divine,  from  thee  there  springs 

All  good  that  germs  and  grows  ; 
Thy  Light  behind  the  sunlight  brings 

The  harvests  to  their  close. 

O,  Life  divine,  thou  art  the  source, 

Of  truth  within  the  soul  ; 
Thou  art  the  guide  through  all  the  course 

That  leads  it  to  its  goal. 

O,  Life  divine,  what  soul  succeeds 

In  aught  on  earth  but  he 
Who  moves  as  all  desires  and  deeds 

Are  lured  and  led  by  thee. 

CURTAIN. 


CECIL  THE  SEER. 


CECIL  THE  SEER. 


INTRODUCTION. 

To  determine  aright  the  relations  that  should  exist  between 
form  and  spirit  is  to  solve  the  most  important,  perhaps,  of 
human  problems.  Ideally,  of  course,  the  one  should  be  a 
perfect  expression  of  the  other  ;  but,  in  this  world,  nothing  is 
ideal  or  perfect ;  and  in  nothing  is  the  fact  more  clearly  ex 
emplified  than  in  the  frequent  failure  of  a  form  to  represent 
that  which,  apparently,  it  exists  for  the  sole  purpose  of  repre 
senting.  To  recognize,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  to  remedy 
this  condition,  are  primal  obligations  of  intelligence ;  and 
this  fact  justifies  the  extensive  treatment  of  the  subject  which 
has  characterized  the  literature  of  all  periods.  Such  treat 
ment,  however,  cannot  go  to  the  bottom  of  its  possibilities 
without  considering  relations  that  are  distinctively  religious  ; 
for  it  is  religion  that  most  imperatively  demands  that  the  form 
be  a  truthful  expression  of  the  spirit.  But  forms  which,  as  in 
the  Second  Act  of  the  following  drama,  are  to  be  turned  inside 
out  in  order  to  reveal  their  inadequacies,  must,  of  themselves, 
be  forms  in  connection  with  which  such  inadequacies  are  unex 
pected.  Otherwise  the  whole  portrayal  will  be  too  common 
place  to  warrant  attention.  It  will  be  perceived,  therefore, 
that  the  selection  of  religious  characters  for  the  drama  was 
justified  by  the  requirements  of  the  theme;  and  also  that  the 
use  which  is  made  of  these  characters  is  not  intended  to  dis 
credit  religion  as  a  whole.  Indeed,  only  those  can  recognize 
the  full  significance  of  the  presentation  who  also  recognize 
that  the  incongruities  indicated  are  not  of  ordinary  occurrence. 

Again,  the  suggestions  derivable  from  a  subject  like  that 


298  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

treated  in  Cecil  the  Seer,  in  order  to  appear  generally  applic-i 
able,  need  to  be  drawn  from  a  general  survey  of  all  the  possi-' 
bilities  of  form ;  and  it  is  for  this  reason,  and  not  because  off 
a  desire  to  disparage  any  particular  form,  that  such  religious 
characters  were  selected  as  are  typical  of  the  remotest  ex-j 
tremes  of  the  narrow  and  the  broad  in  theory  and  of  formalism! 
and  non-conformity  in  practice.  The  inconsistencies  suggested- 
do  not  arise  because  any  one  form  of  religion  invariably  tends , 
to  self-deception,  but  because,  in  certain  circumstances,  all  or 
any  forms  may  tend  in  this  direction.  A  sufficient  motive  for ; 
portraying  the  fact  is  that  only^in  the  degree  in  which  a  man 
has  a  practical  recognition  of  it  can  he  exercise  that  discern-  ' 
ment,  or  be  controlled  by  that  principle,  which  should  char-  ; 
acterize  the  spiritual  life. 

With  reference  to  the  Second  Act  of  the  drama,  it  may  not 
be  out  of  place  to  say  that  the  underlying  conception  of  it  is 
in  strict  accordance  with  human  experience.  Not  a  few,  but 
many,  who,  through  accident  or  disease,  have,  for  a  compara 
tively  long  period,  lost  consciousness,  and  have  again  been 
restored  to  it,  have  borne  witness  that,  while  in  the  uncon 
scious  state,  their  minds  seem  to  have  been  employed  in 
developing  exclusively  the  last  thought  impressed  upon  them 
before  passing  into  the  state.  In  unfolding  the  details  neces 
sitated  by  this  general  conception,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  it 
would  not  have  been  in  accordance  with  the  practice  of  the 
author  had  he  not  carefully  and  consistently  sought  to  conform 
them  to  that  which  is  most  universal  in  the  testimony  given 
by  those  supposed  to  be  in  such  states,  or  in  corresponding 
ones  produced  in  accordance  with  what  are  termed  psychic 
methods.  How  much  absolute  truth  one  is  justified  in  assign 
ing  to  testimony  thus  obtained — from  that  of  Swedenborg 
downward — no  one,  perhaps,  can  decide  with  authority ;  but 
there  must  be  some  reason  why  the  general  tendencies  of  the 
statements  made — as  applied  to  things  reported  as  heard  or 
seen,  not  to  the  testifier's  explanations  of  them — virtually 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  299 

coincide.  The  suggestion  that  there  may  be  such  a  reason  is 
enough  to  make  a  man  pause  and  think,  and  to  do  this 
whether  he  surmise  that  the  testimony,  because  coming  through 
the  subconscious,  reveals  the  results  of  extraneous  revelation, 
or  only  because,  coming  from  the  subconscious,  it  reveals  the 
results  of  universal  intuition.  It  is  true,  too,  that  at  the  end 
of  many  years  of  pausing  and  thinking,  he  may  not  have  been 
able  to  make  out  beyond  dispute  the  source  of  that  which  he 
is  considering  ;  but  one  thing  he  can  always  do,  and  from  the 
very  first :  He  can  compare  the  import  of  that  which  is 
received  with  the  results,  in  his  own  mind,  of  a  combination 
of  previous  information,  spiritual  insight,  and  rational  infer 
ence.  Whatever,  in  its  general  outlines,  coincides  with  these 
results  will  have  for  him,  and  must  have — his  mind  cannot 
prevent  it — the  authority  of  truth.  But  exactly  the  same  may 
be  affirmed  of  statements  which  have  the  authority  of  truth 
when  communicated  through  the  forms  of  poetry.  Could 
there  be  given  any  better  reason — or  excuse  if  needed — for 
letting  the  thought  of  this  drama  be  borne  on  as  a  result  of 
yoking  together  the  poetic  and  the  psychic  ? 


PLACE  AND  TIME. 

ACT  FIRST  :  In  a  Southern  "  Border  State  "  of  the  American 
Union,  a  little  before  the  War  for  Secession. 
An  evening  party  at  the  home  of  the  Cecils. 
Scene:  A  large  hall  with  glimpses  beyond  it 
of  a  parlor  and  a  porch. 

ACT  SECOND  :  Scenes  First  and  Third :  Interior  of  a  sick 
chamber.  Scene  Second:  A  grove  representing 
the  surroundings  of  a  dream  or  trance. 

ACT  THIRD:  In  a  Northern  "  Border  State  "just  at  the  open 
ing  of  the  War  for  Secession.  Scene  First :  The 
interior  of  the  home  of  Freeman  and  Celia ; 
Scene  Second:  A  village  green  in  front  of  Free 
man's  house,  at  one  side  of  which  the  porch  of 
his  house  is  visible. 


fs  this  a  revelation  ? 

Ay,  to  those 

Who  heed  the  truth  behind  the  words  I  use ; 
And  yet  for  those  who  heed  this  truth  themselves 
I  do  not  need  to  term  it  revelation. 

CECIL  THE  SEER,  II,  2. 

All  life  on  earth 

Is  girt  with  warfare,  where  the  light  of  heaven 
That  brings  each  new  day's  liberty  and  truth 
Contends  with  darkness,  and  there  is  no  peace. 
Our  very  bodies  are  but  phantoms  formed 
Of  that  same  darkness  that  we  must  oppose. 
And  we  must  fight,  if  nothing  else,  ourselves. 

IDEM,  III,  2. 


CHARACTERS. 

Professor  in  a  College,  a  Candidate  for  the 
highest  Judicial  Office  of  the  State,  to 
be  appointed  by  its  Governor  and  con 
firmed  by  its  Senate.  Also  a  particular 
friend  and  the  instructor  of  Celia. 
''  Head  Politician  of  the  ruling  party  of  the 

State,  and  a  particular  friend  of  Madam 
Cecil.      Celia    has    been    the   adopted 
daughter  of  his  deceased  wife. 
IEEMAN.  A  young  Law  Student,  friend  of  Cecil  and 

Celia,  and  in  love  with  Faith  Hycher. 

LVER.  Religious  Exhorter,  and  Head  of  the  Pro 

hibition  party  of  the  State.  Particular 
friend  of  Miss  Primwood. 
rATHER  HYCHER.  Head  of  the  Church  party  of  the  State 
who  wish  to  obtain  a  division  of  the 
School  Fund.  Uncle  of  Faith  Hycher, 
and  particular  friend  of  Widow  Hycher, 
his  sister-in-law. 

)WE.  A  Quaker,  representing  a  syndicate  of  rail 

way  monopolists  who  are  pushing  a  plan 
for  appropriating  and  improving  a  part 
of  the  chief  city  of  the  State. 
A  colored  servant. 


3  04  CHA  RA  C  TERS. 

CELIA.  Adopted   daughter    of    deceased    wife    of  | 

Kraft.     Pupil  and  particular  friend  of  j 
Cecil ;  also  friend  of  Freeman. 

CECILIA.  An  idealized  Celia,  appearing   throughout 

the  dream  in  Act  Second. — To  be  acted 
by  the  same  one  who  acts  Celia. 

MADAM  CECIL.      Wife  of  Cecil,  particular  friend  of  Kraft. 

FAITH  HYCHER.  In  love  with  Freeman,  niece  of  Father 
Hycher  and  step-daughter  of  Widow 
Hycher. 

Miss  PRIMWOOD.  Principal  of  a  Female  Seminary,  particular 
friend  of  Blaver. 

WIDOW  HYCHER.  Step-mother  of  Faith  Hycher,  particular 
friend  of  her  brother-in-law,  Father 
Hycher. 

MADAM  LOWE.      Quakeress,  wife  of  Lowe. 

MILLY.  A  colored  servant. 

A  PHYSICIAN,  CHORISTERS,  PROMENADERS,  DANCERS, 
POPULACE,  RUFFIANS,  DETECTIVES,  MILITIA,  ETC. 


CECIL  THE  SEER. 


ACT  FIRST. 

SCENE:  An  evening  party  at  the  home  of  the  Cecils. 
A  large  hall  or  parlor.     Backing  at  the  Right,  ex 
tending  diagonally  across  the  stage,  a  wide  doorway, 
beyond  which  is   a  glimpse  of  a  porch    and  garden. 
Further  forward  on  the  Right,  a  small  table  about 
which  are  three  chairs.     Further  forward  still,  be 
tween  the  place  of  the  Right  Second  and  the  Right 
Front  Entrances,  a  bay  window  containing  a  sofa, 
and  apparently  hiding  those  seated  upon  it  from  the 
view   of  others  in   the  hall.     Backing  at  the  Left, 
extending  diagonally  across  the  stage,  a   wide  door 
way,  beyond  which  is  a  glimpse  of  another  room. 
ENTRANCES  :   Right  Upper,  through  the  door 
way  ;  Right  Third,  through   a  long  win 
dow  open  from  the  floor   up ;  and  Right 
Front,  through  a  doorway.     Left  Upper, 
through    a    doorway,   and  Left  Second, 
through  a  doorway. 


306 


CECIL    THE  SEER. 


Curtain  rising  discloses  FREEMAN  and  FATHER 

HYCHER   sitting  in   the  bay  window,  and 

couples    walking    to    and  fro   upon   the 

stage. 

FATHER  HYCHER.     My  standards  are  the  standards 

of  the  world, 
FREEMAN.     I  know  it. 

FATHER  H.  You  were  questioning 

FREEMAN.  Their  truth.1 

The  forms  we  see  are  puppets  of  a  play, 
A  dull  play  too  !     Though  seek  what  pulls  the 
string, 


1  FATHER  H.  (slowly  and  sarcastically). 

Your  name  is  Freeman. 

FREEMAN.  It  defines  me,  yes. 

FATHER  H.     You  think  fidelity  to  man  can 
grow 

From  germs  of  infidelity  to  God  ? 

You  think  that  questioning  the  forms  men  most 

Esteem  proves  high  esteem  for  men  themselves  ? 

You  think  in  one  that  weds,  or  vows  to  wed, 

To  love  a  third  one  proves  true  love  for  all  ? 
FREEMAN.  That  all  depends  on  what  he  does. 
FATHER  H.  And  that? 

FREEMAN.     On  what  he   is.     Why  ask   these  things 
of  me  ? — 

And  here  ? 
FATHER  H.     Why  should  I  not  ?    We  see  so  much 

In  scenes  like  this  ? 
FREEMAN.  Oh,  no  ! — you  mean  so  little. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  307 

No  longer  is  it  dull.     A  button  breaks, 

A  veil  falls  off 

FATHER  H.  Too  bad  to  hope  for  that ! 

FREEMAN.     Too  bad,  if  lives   be   bad  !     If  not,  too 

good ! 

Some  things  that  on  the  outside  seem  profane, 
Upon  the  inside  may  be  sacred. 
FATHER  H.  Ah  ? 

FREEMAN,     The  converse  too  is  true. 
FATHER  H.  (haughtily). 

You  mean  to  say  ? — 
(Music  starts.) 

FREEMAN  (rising,  as  does  FATHER  HYCHER.) 
That  all  should  watch  the  play,  and  not  forget 
That  they  themselves  are  part  of  it. 
FATHER  H.  Oh,  yes. 

Exit — Right  Front  —  after  bowing  to  Freeman, 
FATHER  H.  (FREEMAN  moves  toward  the 
Right  Upper  Entrance.  A  part  of 
the  following  is  sung  accompanied  by  a 
piano  apparently  in  the  rooms  beyond  the 
Left  Upper  Entrance.  During  the  sing 
ing  certain  of  those  upon  the  stage,  or  enter 
ing  from  its  various  entrances,  dance  to 
the  music). 

We  live  but  for  bubbles,  and  those  who  know 
The  way  of  the  world  their  bubbles  will  blow. 
Ay,  all  but  whose  doings  are  fated  to  be 
No  more  than  are  drops  in  an  infinite  sea. 


308  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

Will  blow  them,  and  show  them,  till,  by  and  by, 
They  fill  and  float  to  the  air  on  high ; 
Hoho  !   hoho  !  and  the  world  will  thus 
Know  how  big  a  bubble  can  come  from  us. 

We  live  but  for  bubbles  that  grow  and  glow 
The  bigger  and  brighter  the  more  we  blow ; 
And,  borne  on  the  breath  of  the  breeze  around 
Wherever  the  tides  of  the  time  are  bound, 
There  is  nothing  of  earth  or  of  heaven  in  sight 
But  they  image  it  all  in  a  rainbow  light ; 
Hoho  !  hoho  1  and  the  world  will  thus 
Know  how  bright  a  bubble  can  come  from  us. 

We  live  but  for  bubbles  a-dance  in  the  blast, 
But  who  can  tell  how  long  they  will  last  ? 
So  swell  your  cheeks,  and  puff,  and  fan, 
And  make  the  most  of  them  while  you  can, 
For  if  ever  the  breath  in  them  fail,  they  will  pop, 
And  only  be  drizzles  to  dry  as  they  drop ; 
Hoho  !  hoho  !  and  the  world  will  thus 
Be  done  with  the  bubbles  that  come  from  us. 

Enter — Right     Upper  —  during  the    singing, 
FAITH.     She  meets  FREEMAN  and,  after  a 
time,   they   sit  in  the  bay  window  at  the] 
Right. 
Exeunt — at  different  Entrances — the  dancers  or\ 

singers. 

FAITH.     This  night  seems  like  zfete  in  fairy-land.1; 
FREEMAN.     You  note  its  meaning  then  ? 

2  That  chorus  proves  it  so.     I  like  to  see 
Our  Cecil  circled  by  the  people  singing. 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  309 

FAITH.  What  ? 

FREEMAN.  Cecil-worship.3 

FAITH.     How  so  ? 

FREEMAN.         Our  state  is  lacking  a  Chief  Justice. 

FAITH     And  what  of  that  ? 

FREEMAN.  His  is  a  high  position.4 

If  any  idol's  niche  be  tenantless, 
The  one  all  worship  is  the  one  all  want  there. 

FAITH.     Oh  yes  !— and  Madam  Cecil 

FREEMAN.  Drawing  hither 

The  undirected  flow  of  current  thought, 
Though  little  rills,  may  find  them,  all  together, 
Enough  to  float  the  bark  of  her  ambition. 
You  see  this  house — and  she  herself — are  gems. 
For  setting,  gems  need  gold.   Her  husband  earns  * 
By  teaching,  at  the  most,  no  gold  to  spare. 


8  FATTH.     And  worship  is  the  interest  men  pay 

For  worth  when  they  can  get  it — justly  due 

To  men  of  principle. 
FREEMAN.  And  how  of  women  ? 

This  Madam  Cecil  is  the  priestess  here. 

The  fee  is  hers  ;  and  he,  the  puppet-idol. 

4  She,  who  is  always  looking  upward,  sees  it. 
FAITH.     That  may  be  ;  but  you  spoke  of  worship. 
FREEMAN.  Why, 

6  By  teaching  in  the  college,  at  the  most, 
No  gold  to  spare  ;  and,  even  did  she  hope, 
From  her  own  managing,  no  perquisites 


310  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

FAITH.     Will  Cecil  get  the  place? 

FREEMAN.  The  governor 

May  nominate  him;  but  the  senators 
Can  scarcely  be  expected  to  confirm, 
Without  some  reason  not  upon  the  surface, 
A  man  so  young  and  inexperienced. 

FAITH.     But  he  is  worthy  of  it. 

FREEMAN.  What  is  worth 

With  those  that  she  will  try  to  get  to  push  him? 
Their  favors  must  be  paid  for.     Most  have  suits 
They  sue  for  in  the  law-courts.     Think  you  Cecil, 
An    upright,     downright     and     straightforward 

nature, 

Will  twist  and  smirk  with  twenty  different  faces 
The  twenty  different  ways  that  these  would  have 
him? 

FAITH.     It  were  a  brilliant  chance! 

FREEMAN.  Yes,  far  too  brilliant 

For  moths  to  meet  with,  and  escape  a  scorching. 
No  wick-light  dazzles  him.     He  knows  the  sun. 

FAITH  (looking  toward  the  Left). 
Look — Madam  Cecil  now — 

FREEMAN  (rising}.     And  angels  too, 

They  say,  draw  near  us  when  we  talk  of  them. 

FAITH  (also  rising).     With  her  comes  Kraft. 

FREEMAN.  The  ruler  of  his  party, — 

Controls  the  governor. 

FAITH.     What  perquisites  ? 

FREEMAN.  The  kind  that  make  us  call 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  311 

FAITH.  Ah!  And  Cecil,  then,— 

Are  he  and  Kraft  such  friends? 

FREEMAN.  No;  she  and  Kraft, 

A  man  that  she  so  floods  with  flattery 
That  his  half  drowned,  asphyxied  reason  raves 
Past  all  resisting  her.     Beside  this  too, 
He  means,  they  say,  to  seat  that  son  of  his 
In  Cecil's  present  chair.     Your  men  that  rule, 
When  others  hold  the  place  that  they  would  fill, 
Tramp  an  inferior,  and  push  off  an  equal; 
But  if  some  scheme  they  basely  brew  be  spoiled 
By  one  above  them,— they  are  left  no  option; 
But,  like  a  cover,  they  must  lift  him  higher. 
So,  by  their  very  righteousness,  you  see 
The  righteous  force  their  foes  to  do  them  justice. 
Exeunt — Right  Front — FREEMAN  and  FAITH. 
Enter — Left  Upper — KRAFT  with  MADAM  CECIL. 

MADAM  C.     Your  charming  son — 

KRAFT.     Gains  charms  from  you  who  say  that — 

MADAM  C.     And  with  his  noble  brow,  and  eyes, 
and  manners — 

KRAFT.     Yes  ;  he  is  like  his — mother. 

MADAM  C.  Why,  my  friend, 

His  mien,  his  manner  are  as  like  to  yours, 
As  ever  were  the  echoes  of  a  wood 
To  singing  of  a  woodsman. 

A  public  man  "  His  Honor,"  lest  the  world 
Might  fail  to  recognize  it,  if  not  labeled. 


312  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

KRAFT.  Oh,  you  flatter  !— ' 

I  wish  your  husband  could  be  led — 
MADAM  C.  You  think 

He  cannot  then  ? 

KRAFT.  Why  that  depends— 

MADAM  C.  On  whom  ?— 

A  good  judge  is  a  man  whose  judgments  you 
Approve. 
KRAFT  (bowing  to  her}. 

Thanks  for  your  interest. 

Enter — Left  Second — MR.  BLAVER  with  Miss  PRIM- 
WOOD. 
MADAM  C.     (continuing  to  KRAFT). 

Why  that 
Becomes    me, — does    it    not? — Have    you    not 

said 

I  always  do,  as  well  as  wear,  the  thing 
That  seems  becoming  ? — and  the  principal 
(touching  KRAFT  with  her  fan  ;  then  pointing  it  to 
ward  herself?) 

Should  always  draw  its  interest.     Not  so  ? — 
(turning  to  speak  to  Miss  PRIMWOOD  and  BLAVER, 
who  carries  a  pamphlet  in  his  hand.) 


'MADAM  C.     And  pardon,  if  I  add  both  have  their 

music. 

KRAFT.     No,  no  ;  but  Madam  Cecil,  you  do  flatter  ! 
MADAM  C.     Not  half  so  much,  my  good  friend,  as 

your  mirror, 


CECIL    THE  SEER. 

Miss    Primwood,    ah!    Good-evening— You    too, 

Deacon  : 

(All  bow.     KRAFT  talks  aside  to  Miss  PRIMWOOD. 
MADAM   CECIL  continues  to  BLAVER,   tapping 
his  pamphlet  with  her  fan?) 
We  read  your  little  prohibition  tracts. 
BLAVER.     Yes?— Thanks.— Yet,  as  you  say,  they 

are  but  little. 
MADAM  C.     The  littlest  diamond  in  this  ring  I 

wear 

Is  better  for  my  humble,  human  use, 
Than  a  whole  world  of  dust  whirled  in  a  star 
Set  in  an  orbit  out  beyond  my  reach. 
BLAVER.     If,   in  some  humble   way,   my  tracts   do 

good— 
MADAM  C.     The  littlest  bird-track,   sometimes,  in 

the  sand 

May  make  one  think  of  wings  flown  out  of  sight. 
BLAVER.     If  only  mine  would — wings  of  progress, 

wings — 

MADAM  C.     Ah,  but  your  cause  is  right. 
BLAVER.  Yes,  all  our  pleas 

Are  based  upon  religion.     Yet  you  know 
The  lower  courts  are  hostile. 

When  you  but  face — 
KRAFT.  And  find  it  very  bright  ?-— 

But  now,  about  my  son  :  I  think — I  think — 
MADAM  C.     What  I  think.     Do  we  ever  disagree  ? 
KRAFT.     I  wish  your  husband,  etc. 


314  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

Exeunt — Left — Miss  PRIMWOOD  and  KRAFT. 
MADAM  C.  Right  must  win. 

BLAVER.     You  think  so  ?— The  professor  too  ? — 7 
Enter — Left  Second — FATHER  HYCHER  with  WIDOW 

HYCHER. 

(MADAM  C.,  noticing  them,  then  insinuatingly  to 
BLAVER.) 

You  think 

A  man,  religious  truly,  would  not  stand 
Upon  a  platform  based  upon  religion  ? 

(MADAM  C.  and  BLAVER   bow  to  FATHER  H. 
and   WIDOW    HYCHER.      BLAVER    talks 
aside  to   WIDOW  H.    and,  with  her,  pres 
ently,  exits   at  the  Left — MADAM  C.  con 
tinues  talking  to  FATHER  HYCHER). 
You  act  like  saints  we  read  of  in  the  legends, 
With  holy  air  about  them.     As  you  enter, 
Our  thoughts  turn  toward  religion. 
FATHER  H.  Ah  ? — with  mine  ! — 

I  saw  you  at  the  church,  the  other  day. 
MADAM  C.     I  heard  the  Father  was  to  preach — 


7  MADAM  C.  (assuming  an  air  of  disparagement}. 

Come,  come  ; 

No  man  should  anchor  trust  in  such  as  he, 

Why  your  opponents  never 

BLAVER  (eagerly].     Would  support  him  ? — 

They  never  would  ? 
MADAM  C.  How  could  they  ?     Do  you  know, 


CECIL   THE  SEEK.  3I; 

FATHERH-  And  came?- 

MADAM  C.     To  be  a  worshipper 

FA™ER  H.  You  think  perhaps> 

1  hat  we  make  less  of  preaching  than  of  praise. 
MADAM  C.     Now,    honestly,     I     do    admire     your 

form. 

FATHER  H.     I  like  to  see  you  give  it  countenance. 
But,  really,  Madam  Cecil,  you  are  right. 
We  must  have  form  :— all  eyes,  ears,  crave  it  so. 
The  only  question,  as  I  say,  is  this— 

Which  form  is  the 

MADAM  C.  The  form  the  most  emphatic, 

One  might  call  the  form. 

FATHER  H.  Right,  just  right  again  I- 

In  schools,  asylums,  prisons,  everywhere 

That  faith  should  be  impressed 

MADAM  C.  There  one  should  use 

The  most  impressive  form. 
FATHER  H.  Why,  why,  how  strange  ! 

Just  what  I  told  your  husband ! 
MADAM    C.    (laughing   significantly).      You    have 
learned 


That  only  last  night,  when  some  friends  were  here 

And  talking  of  the  governorship,  he  said 

Our  next  might  be  a  prohibitionist. 
BLAVER  (greatly  pleased,  rubbing  his  hands}. 

Is  that  so  ?     Really  !— Is  that  so  ?     Why,  why  !— 
MADAM  C.  (tapping  him  with  her  fan}.     You  may  be 
governor  yet.     You  may,  you  may  !— 


3l6  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

A  woman's  thoughts  are  echoes.8 
FATHER  H.  No — but  I— 

How  could  I  think   my   words  had  had  such 

weight  ? 
MADAM  C.     Words  are  a  currency  that  owe  their 

worth 

Less  to  their  substance,  often,  than  their  source.9 
FATHER  H.     I  did  not  think  I  had  such  influence. 
MADAM  C.  Nor  does  the  sun.    It  never  thinks  at  all ; 
Yet    keeps    the    whole    world    whirling — by   its 

light  ?-- 

No,  no, — by  its  position. 
FATHER  H.  If  the  courts 

Had  only  sense  to  recognize  the  wrong 
Of  taxing  our  schools  to  support  a  rule 
From  which  our  own  religion  is  ruled  out — 
MADAM  C.     And  on  your  side  are  many  senators  ? — 

And  they  confirm  the  judges  ? 
FATHER  H.  What  of  that  ? 

8  and  she  echoes 

The  thoughts  that  have  been  nearest  his  heart  too 
To  whom  she  stands  the  nearest. 

9  FATHER  H.     Your  husband,  then,  you  think 

MADAM  C.  A  man  that  knows 

Enough  to  judge  a  beaker  by  its  brand  > 

10  FREEMAN  (to  FAITH). 

See  Madam  Cecil.     How  her  ribboned  form 
Bends  o'er  the  black  coats  ! — like  a  bow  of  promise 
Above  thick  cloud-banks.     Each  one  thinks  he  sees 


CECIL   THE  SEER. 


317 


MADAM  C.     Why,  Father,  sometimes  I  have  played 
at  whist ; 

And  when  my  partner  holds  the  cards  that  win 

Enter — Right  Front — FREEMAN    and  FAITH,  pres 
ently  seating  themselves  in  the  bay  window. 
Enter — Left   Second — LOWE  carrying  a  map- 
like  plan   of  streets,  parks,    etc.     Other 
GENTLEMEN  enter    with   him.     All  sur 
round  MADAM  C. 
FATHER  H.  (to  MADAM  C.). 

What  then  ? 

MADAM  C.       Then  I  play  low — play  whist. 
FATHER  H.  Ha  !  ha  ! 10 

Exit— Left  Upper— FATHER  HYCHER. 
MADAM  C.  (looking  over  LOWE'S  plans}. 

This  line  here  is  the  river  bank, — not  so  ? 
LOWE.     And  here  the  railway  ;  and  the  park  is  here, 

And  here  the  church  {pointing). 
MADAM  C.  The  church  ? 

LOWE.  You  know  with  me 

Religion  is  the  chief  consideration. 

Those  of  his  own  cloth  fly  at  Cecil's  bidding 

Like  crows  where  grows  but  shall  not  grow  a  harvest. 

Oh,  to  be  popular,  just  let  one  be 

Abulge  with  promise,  pledging  everything. 

Till  time  present  him  his  protested  bills, 

The  world  will  fawn  and  paw  him  like  a  cur 

To  do  his  bidding.     Promise  is  a  flea  : 

It  makes  us  itch  ;  but  fools  us,  would  we  catch  it. 


CECIL   THE  SEER. 

MADAM  C.     I  know;  but  yet  a  friend — ? 

LOWE.  The  company 

Are  world's  folk, — will  not  build  a  meeting.     So 

We  would  not  quarrel  with  them:  we  build  this. 

MADAM  C.     Yes.     How   considerate  !  "     Is  there 

much  doubt 
Of  your  success  ? 
LOWE.  Oh  no— not  if  the  courts 

Remove  the  injunction  of  the  district's  owners. 
MADAM  C.     But  that  will  follow.     As   my  husband 

says, 

The  corner  stones  of  monumental  deeds 
Must  always  crush  some  worms ;  and  plans  like 
these 

(laughing  good-naturedly) 
Are  monumental — even  in  their  size  ! 
We  ought  to  find  a  table  for  them  here. 

( gesturing  toward  the  Left. ) 
Exeunt — Left    Second — MADAM    C.,    LOWE 

and  other  GENTLEMEN. 
FREEMAN  (to  FAITH). 

This  is  a  swindle  shrewdest  of  them  all, — 


11  LOWE.  I  wish  to  be  so. 

MADAM  C.     But  no  one  lives  here  yet  ? 
LOWE.  In  time  some  will. 

MADAM  C.     And,  for  their  future  good,  you  build 

the  church  ? 

LOWE.     Yet  some  do  not  approve  it. 
MADAM  C  Is  there  doubt 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  319 

A  syndicate  that  steals  the  river-bank  ; 

Then  taxes  doubly  those  they  steal  it  from ia 

But  look  you — there  is  Cecil,  and  with  Celia. 
(pointing  toward  Left  Upper  Entrance.) 

How  indiscreet  his  kindness  toward  that  ward 

Of  Kraft! — Kraft  who  could  make  him  judge, 
and  who 

Abhors  her,  treats  her  like  a  slave,  they  say. 
FAITH.     Why  so? 

FREEMAN.  He  has  his  reasons. 

FAITH  (rising).  Do  you  know  them? 

(FREEMAN  rising  and  shrugging  his  shoulders.) 

Some  say  that  you  admired  her  once. 
FREEMAN.  I  did. 

Before  my  eyes  met  you 

FAITH.  This  never  can  be. 

My  uncle's  honor  and  mine  own  are  pledged. 
FREEMAN.     But  honor  helping  none  and  harming 
self, 


12  For  what  is  left  them.     But  the  abuse  is  old. 
Where  thrived  ambition  yet,  but  strove  to  build 
Itself  a  monument  by  heaping  up 
That  which,  when  lost,  made  hollow  all  about  it ! 
How  many  castles  I  have  seen  in  Europe, 
Where  every  graceful  touch  in  breadth  and  height 
That  formed  the  great  hall's  pride,  seemed  under 
lined 

As  if  by  shadowy  finger-prints  of  force 
That  snatched  all  from  the  hamlet  at  its  base  ! 


320  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

Need  never  serve  the  body  of  a  vow 
From  which  the  life  to  which  it  vowed  has  flown. 
Exeunt — Right  First — FAITH  and  FREEMAN. 
Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — CELIA  and  CECIL. 
CECIL.     Must  leave  off  study,  Celia  ? 
CELIA.  So  it  seems. 

CECIL.     To  be   their   brightest,   minds    need  bur 
nishing  ; 

And  earth  needs  all  the  light  that  we  can  give  it.18 
CELIA.     What  can  a  woman  give  ? 
CECIL.  A  great  deal,  Celia. 

You  know  the  crystal  globes  clairvoyants  look  in, 
And  think  they  see  as  heaven  sees  then  ? — Some 
women. 

13  CELIA.     I  know — were  I  not  so  opposed— were  I 
Not,  say,  a  woman.     What  can  woman  do  ? 

CECIL.     Do  Celia,  do  ? 

CELIA.  Why,  yes — what  starts  with  her  ? 

CECIL.    No  matter  what.    Men  sow  the  seed,  you  think. 

How  could  it  grow,  were  it  to  find  no  soil  ? 

You  know  the  crystal  globes,  etc. 

14  CELIA.  The  sun  may  find 
Its  image  in  the  dullest  pool. 

CECIL.  To  be 

Too  modest,  is  to  lag  behind,  and  break 

God's  lines,  who  ranks  us  right. 
CELIA.  But  eyes,  they  say, 

Made  free  to  roam  round  all  the  world  of  thought 

Find  views  too  strange 

CECIL.  To  those  not  free  to  roam  ? — 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  32i 

Have  crystal  souls.     One  faces  them  to  find 

His  thoughts  divine,  himself  akin  to  God. 

CELIA.     If  that  be  woman's  nature 

CECIL.  It  is  not. 

Till  polished  in  the  friction  of  the  schools, 

Which  some  think  needless  ;  but  where  woman's 
mind 

Has  never  been  made  bright,  the  thoughts  of  men 

Will  never  flash  for  it.14 
CELIA.  The  thoughts  of  men 

Would  never  flash  at  all,  unless  inspired 

From  heaven  above — 

CECIL.  By  those  who  came  from  it  ? 

CELIA.     I  think,  at  times,  the  souls  that  shall  live 
there, 

Who  envy  what  they  cannot  see  themselves  ? 

CELIA.     They  say  such  hate  what  does  not  aid  religion. 

CECIL.     Aid  whose,  and  what  ? — their  own  ? — and  are 

they  sure 

They  do  not  make  themselves  their  lords,  forsooth, 
Because  they  wish  to  lord  it  over  others  ? 

CELIA      It  may  have  been  my  fault — I  had  a  dream — 

CECIL.     And  you  are  blamed  for  dreaming  ? 

CELIA.  No  ;  I  told  it 

CECIL.     Another  Joseph  ! — indiscreet,  I  see. 
You  should  have  known  we  all  at  heart  are  Tartars; 
And  value  most  the  beauty  of  the  spirit, 
When,  like  the  Tartar's  daughter,  it  is  veiled. — 
And  yet,  if  unveiled  once,  why  not  for  me  ? 

CELIA.     My  dream  awoke  a  whim.     I  said  I  thought. 


322  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

Have  lived  there,  too,  before  ;  and,  born  on  earth, 
Fill  spheres  to  which  their  own  deeds  destined 

them 

CECIL.     Not  Adam's — Eve's  ? 

CELJA.  Had  my  deeds  been  an  Eve's, 

My  present  life  might  rightly  be  a  slave's. 
CECIL.     You  like   strong   language,   Celia, — be   a 

slave's  ? 
CELIA.     Note  my  complexion — who  think  you  my 

mother  ? — 
CECIL.     What,  what  ? — Kraft  never  claimed  you  as  a 

slave  ? 
CELIA.     Nor  will,  perhaps  ;  but  he  has  threatened  it ; 

And  even  the  suggestion  of  this  here — 
CECIL     But  why  suggest  it? 

That,  if  a  soul  must  live  hereafter,  why, 

It  must  have  lived  before. — You  know  the  Christ 

Did  not  rebuke  those  who  confessed  they  thought 

Elias  had  returned  ;  but,  in  an  age 

When  all  believed  he  might  return,  confirmed  them. 

And  then  our  creed— Where  can  it  come  to  pass, — 

The  body's  resurrection  ? 

CECIL.  Where  ? 

CELIA.  Where  but 

In  that  new  earth  of  Hebrew  prophecies  ? — 
Which  would  have  but  misled,  had  those  that  heard 
Not  had  it  in  their  power  themselves  to  be 
Restored  to  life  in  that  restored  estate. 

CECIL.     Seems  life  so  bright  then  ? — You  would  live 
it  over  ? 

CELIA.     No,  no  ;  so  sad  that  I  would  solve  its  reason. 


CECIL    THE  SEER. 

CELIA.  I  alone  have  seen 

The  writings  that  were  left  him  by  his  wife,— 

Her  wish  to  free  her  slaves 

CECIL.  Oh,  what  a  worm 

Is  greed  for  gold  !     Did  ever  human  fruitage 
Turn  into  rot  but  this  greed  gnawed  the  core  ?— 
Was  there  a  will  ? 

(CELIA  nods  slightly?) 

You  are  in  danger,  yes. 
CELIA.     A   wretch   has    come,    as   vile    as    he    is 

ugly  ; 

And  if  I  were  the  charmer  of  a  snake, 

I  could  not  shrink  from  touch  more  horrible. 

CECIL.     And  what  of  him  ? 

CELIA.  Why,  I  must  go  with  him; 

Indeed,  have  been  forbidden  to  come  here. 

If  we  have  lived  before,  we  all  are  born 

In  spheres  to  which  our  own  deeds  destine  us. 
CECIL.     Not  Adam's  ? 
CELIA.  Each  one  may  have  been  an  Adam  ; 

And  therefore  made  a  slave  now. 
CECIL.  You  a  slave  ? 

CELIA.     I  must  find  some  one — let  me  tell  it  you  : 

To  him,  whose  wife,  ere  death,  was  more  to  me 

Than  mother,  I  am  naught. 
CECIL.  But  others  prize  you. 

A  jewel  is  not  judged  by  what  surrounds  it. 
CELIA.     And  yet  a  jewel  might  be  cheaply  bartered 

By  one  who  did  not  prize  it. 

CECIL.  Bartered  ?— You 

CELIA.     Note  my  complexion — etc. 


324  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

CECIL.     To-night  ? 

CELIA.  To-night. 

CECIL.  Must  marry  him  ? 

CELIA.  Nay,  worse. 

He  needs,  or  says  he  needs,  a  housekeeper. 
CECIL.  Why,  Celia,  this  is  monstrous!  By  what  means 

Would  Kraft  enforce  his  will  ? 
CELIA.  By  force  itself  ; 

And  what  he  deems  my  ignorance. 
CECIL.  Tell  me,  child. 

Has  Kraft  good  reasons  ? 15 
CELIA.  No  ;  my  race  is  yours. 

But  one  needs  time  to  prove  it. 
CECIL.  Who  meanwhile 

Will  guard  you? 

CELIA.  Yes — who  will? 

CECIL.  That  son  of  Kraft? 

CELIA.     He? — Such  a  villain,  that  his  daintiest  act 

Of  kindness  is  a  counterfeited  coin 

With  which  he  chaffers  and  intends  to  cheat! 

If  I  were  drowning,  I  would  spurn  to  grasp 

His  hand,  if  it  would  draw  me  near  himself. 

Better  to  die  at  once,  when  washed  and  clean, 

Than  catch  contagion  and  live  on  denied. 
CECIL.     You  must  remain  at  my  house. 
Enter — Left  Second — KRAFT. 

15  CELIA.  If  he  have  ? 

CECIL.  Why,  then, 

By  your  white  soul,  and  by  the  work  of  Christ, 

I  stand  between  you. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  325 

KRAFT  (aside).  Celia  here? 

CELIA  (noticing  KRAFT). 

I — I — have  an  engagement.     I  must  go. 

Exit— Left  Upper— CELIA. 
KRAFT  (to  CECIL). 

I  interrupt  you.     She  was 

CECIL  (to  KRAFT).  Merely  saying 

That  you  desire  to  have  her  drop  her  studies. 
KRAFT.     Well,  she  must  win  her  bread. 
CECIL.  Quite  true;  but  how? 

KRAFT.     Humph! — my  affair! 
CECIL.  Why,  no;  not  wholly,— is  it? 

Let  me  relieve  you  of  the  charge  of  her. 

And  take  it  on  myself.     In  two  years'  time, 

When  once  she  gets  to  teaching,  she  can  pay  me. 
KRAFT  (sarcastically].     Perhaps;  but,  by  the  way, 
now,  that  you  speak 

Of  teaching,  there  is  no  one  named,  I  think, 

For  your  professorship,  in  case  you  leave  it. 
CECIL.     I  have  not  left  it  yet. 
KRAFT.  You  may  do  so. 

If  not,  too,  there  are  more  professorships; 

And  I — I  have  a  son. 
CECIL.  I  see.     No  doubt 

His  claims  would  have  fair  hearing. 
KRAFT.  But  if  you 

Could  recommend  him 

CECIL.  That  would  pass  for  little; 

I  know  so  little  of  him. 


326  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

KRAFT.  But  your  word 

CECIL.     Would,   like  a  bank-note,   quickly  lose  its 
worth 

Were  nothing  stored  behind  it,  to  make  true 

The  storage  it  bespeaks.18 

Enter — Left  Second — A  GENTLEMAN,  beckoning  to 

KRAFT  ;  also  FREEMAN. 

KRAFT  (noticing  the  GENTLEMAN,  and  bowing  to  him, 
and  also  to  CECIL). 

Thanks  for  your  frankness. 
Exeunt — Left  Second — KRAFT  and  GENTLEMAN. 
CECIL  (to  FREEMAN). 

That  son,  if  Celia  judged  him  rightly,  gets 
No  honor  which  my  justice  can  deny  him. 


16  KRAFT.  Humph  !  I  have  found 

The  men  most  praised  for  judgment  are  the  men 
Most  echoing  others'  judgments.     Thus,  forsooth, 
They  make  their  own  appear  approved  by  all. 

CECIL.     Not  so  with  me  !     Has  he  experience 
In  teaching  ? 

KRAFT.  He  has  knowledge. 

CECIL.  For  a  teacher, 

A  knowledge  of  mere  books  does  not  suffice  ; 
He  needs  a  knowledge  too  of  human  nature  ; 
And  sympathy,  to  make  his  teaching  welcome  ; 
And  fire,  to  make  it  felt  ;  and  tact  and  skill, 
To  aim  and  temper  it  for  others'  needs  ; 
And  modesty  to  keep  his  own  acquirements 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  327 

Well,  well,  I  may  have  ruined  all  my  hopes. 
Let  go  then!     Duty  never  shone  more  clear: 
Shall   I    play    slave    to    Kraft,    Lowe,    Hycher, 

Blaver  ?— 

Sell  them  the  justice  that  is  in  my  soul 
To  seem  to  deal  out  justice  for  the  state  ? — 
No  ;  better  be  God's  creature  though  a  worm, 
Than  theirs,  though  they  had  power  to   make  me 

king  ! 

Exit — Left  Upper — CECIL  and  FREEMAN. 
Dance  music.  Enter  and  exeunt  at  entrances, 
dancers  in  couples  or  in  sets.  At  last, 
those  nearest  the  Left  Upper  Entrance 
beckon  to  the  others,  and  all,  as  if  suddenly 
called  away,  exeunt  at  the  Left  Upper 
Entrance. 

In  strict-held  servitude  to  their  demands; 
And  dignity  that  comes  from  honoring  truth, 
To  crown  its  bondman  as  the  student's  master. 
What  think  you  ?    Has  he  these  ? 

KRAFT.  Has  had  no  chance 

To  show 

CECIL.  Then  why  not  test  him  where  a  failure 

Would  not  be  trumpeted  ?    A  man's  best  friend 
Will  bid  him  wait  for  honor  till  he  earn  it. 
Amid  earth's  envious  crush  of  frenzied  greed, 
It  is  no  kindness,  pushing  to  the  front 
One  who  is  not  a  leader.     Zealous  forms 
That  crowd  him  there  may  tramp  him  under 
foot. 


328  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

Enter — Left  Second  Entrance — JEM,  carrying 
a  tray  with  plates  and  refreshments  on  it. 
He  looks  at  dancers,  then  crosses  the  stage 
to  the  bay  window,  where,  meeting  MILLY, 
he  places  the  tray  on  the  seat. 
Enter — Right  Front  Entrance — MILLY,  carry 
ing  a  tray  with  glasses  containing  iced  tea 
She  too  places  her  tray  on  a  seat  in  the  bay 
window. 
JEM  (looking  at  departing  dancers). 

Dey  all  gone  whar  de  tables  is,  I  reckon, 

(looking  at  Milly) 
De  white  folks  has  de  shadders 
MILLY.  An'  dey  dance, 

Dance  'nine  de  white  folks'  back. 

(JEM  and  MILLY  dance?) 
Jem  (stretching  his  hand  to  take.  MILLY'S). 

Oh,  heah  !  come  heah  ! 
MILLY  (drawing  back  her  hand). 

No,  no,  yer  don't 

JEM  (looking  sharply  at  her  hand,  which  she  keeps 
clenched). 

17  JEM.  Ah,  dat  's  right. 

MILLY  {putting  ear-ring  in  her  pocket). 

Yes,  Laud! 
An*  doin'  right. 
JEM.  All  'cep'  dat  yer  aint  dancin'. 

(JEM  and  MILLY  dance.) 
Heah,  heah  now,  heah  an'  heah  ! 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  329 

Now  tell  me  what  yer  got 
In  dat  black  hollah  dah. 
MILLY  (jerking  her  hand  away). 

Jes'  what  yer  hasn't. 

JEM.  Come,  come,  now,  Milly.  Lawd  ob  all  de  stahs ! 
Dis  heah's  a  patch  ob  his  own  pitchy  sky , 
An'  hoi's  a  stah  in  dah.     Whose  am  it,  hey  ? 
MILLY.     Whose  ?     Mine. 
JEM.     Yer'll  catch  it — libin'  deed  o'  darkness  ! 
MILLY  (throwing  an  ear-ring  from  one  hand  into  the 

other}. 

Dey'll  hab  to  catch  dis  fust. 

JEM.  Come,  yer  knows,  Milly, 

Dat  I'll  not  gib  yer  way.     Say,  whar  'd  yer  get 

it? 

MILLY.     Why,  on  de  floah. 

JEM.  Who  drapt  it  off  'um  den  ? 

1  MILLY.     De   folks   dat  owes  us  twenty  times  as 

much 
As  dat  'ill  fetch  us." 

MILLY  (stopping,  and  gesturing  to  JEM,  who  keeps  on 

dancing). 

Now,  Jem,  yer  wait. 

JEM.     What  fur? 

MILLY.  'Case  dey  '11  fine  out. 

TEM  Ugh,  dey  can't  see  us. 

MILLY.     Ole  missus  's  allers  houndin'  roun',  yer 

knows, 
To  fine  de  niggah. 


330  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

{Moving  and  gesturing  toward  the  bay  window.) 

Dah.     Set  down. 
(MILLY  sits  in  the  bay  window) 
JEM  (looking  at  refreshments).     An'  take 

De    crum    dat's      fallen     fro'    de     rich    man's 

table  ?— 
Dat'm  scripter  (he  sits  down). 

Look  heah,  Milly. 

MILLY.  What's  ter  see  ? 

JEM.     I  likes  dis  cake.     It'm  sweet,  and  yet,  yer 

knows, 

Dis  dahky's  lips  would  like  anoder  cake. 
(Puckering  lips,  as  if  to  kiss  her) 
MILLY.     Oh,  yer  go  home. 
JEM  (looking  out  of  the  window). 

No  ;  it  am  cold  out  dah. 
MILLY.     Den  let  it  shake  yer  !  yer  got  one  wife/ 

now. 
JEM.     Not  one  !  De  las'  'un,  Dinah,  'm  sold,  yer 

know. 
MILLY.     Law  sakes  !     Why,  I  aint  heahd  o'  dat. 


18  JEM.     Well,  dey  don't  reckon  so  nuther. 
MILLY.  What  dey  reckon, 

Dey  show  by  sellin'  Dinah. 

JEM.  What  yer  reckon 

MILLY.     Is  all  de  number  ob  yer  wives  ! 

(bowing  to  JEM.) 
JEM.  Yer  can't. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  331 

JEM-  She'm  gone- 

Gone  like  de   dark  cloud   when   de   night  am 

come. 

I'll  nebah  see  her  moah. 
MILLY.  Jem,  dat  am  sad 

JEM.     An'  yer  don't  reckon  dis  Jem's  meant  ter  be 

A  gem  widout  a  settin'  ? 

MILLY.  Dah's  de  white  folks. 

Enter—Left  Upper— BLAVER  and  Miss  PRIM- 
WOOD. — MILLY  tf»</jEM  rise,  taking  their 
trays.16 

Exit — Right  Front  Entrance — JEM  hurriedly. 
Miss   PRIMWOOD   (catching  a  glimpse  of  them,   and 

holding  up  her  hands]. 

None  have  religion,  none— I  tell  you  none. 
Men  are  not  solemnized  as  once  they  were. 
BLAVER.     No,  they  are  sodomized.     You  say  you 
saw 

( pointing  toward  the  Left. ) 
In  Cecil's  hand,  a  reddish-colored  dram? 
Miss  PRIMWOOD.     It  might  have  been 

19  Is  not  the  man  I  thought — no  proper  mate 

For  Madam  Cecil.     She 

Miss  PRIMWOOD,  You  think  so,  eh  ? — 

Men  never  will  know  women.     This  is  hers — 
Her  party — making  those  not  thirsty  drink, 
And  eat,  too,  with  no  appetite, — and  dance 
When,    prudence  knows,    they   ought   to   be  in 
bed, 


332  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

BLAVER.  To  those  who  saw  it  drunk 

It  looked,  at  least,  like  liquor.     He  was  not 
Avoiding  the  appearances  of  evil,19 
MILLY,  carrying  a  tray  containing  a  reddish-colored 

liquid  in  glasses,  stops  before  BLAVER. 
BLAVER  (to  MILLY). 

Ah, — what  is  this  ? 
MILLY.  Iced  tea. 

BLAVER.  Why,  that  will  be 

Refreshing,  very ! 

(To  Miss  P.) 
Here  ! 

(Pointing  to  chairs  surrounding  a  small  table, 
near  the  bay  window,  and  motioning  her  to 
sit  down). 

Iced  tea  ! 
(To  MILLY.) 

Yes,  yes. 

(BLAVER  and  Miss  P.  sit  at  the  table.  MILLY 
places  two  glasses  of  the  reddish-colored 
liquid  before  them) 

BLAVER  (continuing  the  interrupted  conversation). 
Where  none  wish  levity,  affairs  like  this 
Create  it.     I  have  known  most  sober  men 
Grow  indiscreet — 

(tasting  the  tea.) 

This  is  good,  yes — and  make 
All  that  they  pray  for  seem  ridiculous. 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  333 

Enter — Left  and  Right — couples  walking  together. 

Exit— Left  Upper— MILLY. 
Enter— Right  Upper—}™  carrying  a  tray  on  which 

are  plates  containing  refreshments  to  eat. 
Miss  PRIMWOOD   (looking  in   disapprobation  at  the 

couples). 
And  scenes  like  this,  too,  cater  to  flirtation — 

(looking  at  two  elderly  people  together) 
In  them  so  old,  too,  they  should  be  above  it. 

(Miss  PRIMWOOD'S  spoon  that  she  has  been 
using,  falls  to  the  floor. — BLAVER  hands 
Miss  P.  his  spoon  that  he  has  not  used,  at 
the  same  time  picking  up  Miss  P's.  spoon 
and  significantly  placing  it  in  his  own  cup?) 
BLAVER.  Precisely ! 

Miss  P.  Yes,  at  times,  it  makes  me  feel 

BLAVER   (who   evidently  has    lost  the  connection    of 

thought). 

Flirtation  makes  you  feel  ? 
Miss  P.  (in  evident  disgust). 

Oh  no  ;  not  that ! 

(JEM  stands  before  them  with  his  tray) 
BLAVER  (noticing  JEM,  and  taking  plates  from  his  tray 
for  Miss  P.  and  himself,  as  if  thinking  Miss 
P.  referred  to  these). 
Oh  yes,  I  see  ! 

Miss  P.  (disliking  his  inference  with  reference  to  the 
meaning  of  her  former  words). 
No,  no ! 


334  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

BLAVER  (referring  to  the  plates}. 

Not  take  them  ? 
Miss  P.  These  ? 

Oh  yes,  I  thank  you. — You  mistook  my  meaning. 

I  sometimes  think  that  none  should  feel  at  all. 

Exit— Left  Upper—]™. 

BLAVER.     No,  in  flirtation  none  should  feel  at  all. 
Miss  P.     No,  no,  no  !  not  in  that — in  anything. 

If  none  would  feel,  none  would  have  discontent ; 

And  that  would  cure  all  evils  of  the  time. 
BLAVER.     Yes,  that  is  true.     Why,  even  small  boys 
now, 

Must  have  small  beer 

Miss  P.  For  that  will  pop,  you  know! 

Will  make  a  noise!  explode  monotony! 

Our  slaves  now  even  hint  of  earning  wages; 

And  girls,  once  clad  in  bonnets  and  in  slippers, 

Now  strut  in  hats  and  boots. 
BLAVER.  And  where,  strut  where? 

20  BLAVER.     And  times  that  do  not  like  a  cackling 
hen, 

And  seek  to  fill  their  coops  with  fowl  that  crow, 

Will  not  get  many  eggs. 
Miss  P.  No,  no  ;  will  not ! — 

Think  what  a  scandal,  if  our  highest  courts 

BLAVER.     Should  not  court  women  of  the  highest 

kind. 
Miss  P.     Precisely  ;  and  o'errule  th'  iniquity 

That  gives  free  entrance  into  men's  resorts 


CECIL    THE  SEER. 


335 


Miss  P.     Well  put,  well  put,   my   friend  !     They 

strut  for  schools 
In  which  they  think  and  talk  like  boys  and  with 

them.20 
(BLAVER    and  Miss    P.   continue  their  conversation 

aside) 

^Enter—Left  Upper— CECIL  and  FATHER  HYCHER. 
CECIL.     Yes,  Father  Hycher  ;  but  you  know  our  laws 

Have  never  recognized  the  churches  thus. 
FATHER  H.     But  we  have  rights — 
CECIL.  To  change  the  laws  you  have, 

But  not  to  break  them. 
FATHER  H.     Did  one  merely  waive 

The  letter  of  the  law,  what  could  be  harmed  ? 
CECIL.     One's  conscience,  if  he  went  against  the 

law, — 

One's  heed  of  right, — a  fact,  I  take  it,  Father, 
You  ought  to  see. 

FATHER  H.  I  do  not  see  it  so  ai  ; 

Exit— Left  Second—  FATHER  H. 

Of  maids 

BLAVER.     That  in  your  school  are  prized  like  jewels  ! 

81  And  if  I  did,  above  it  I  could  see 
A  higher  law. 

Exit — Left  Second— FATHER  H. 
CECIL  (looking  after  him,  and  soliloquizing). 

Humph,  humph  !  we  live  to  learn. 
It  seems  that  even  formalists  like  him 
Can  see  some  spirit  through  a  form  ;  but  what? — 


336  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

(CECIL  moves  toward  the  right  near  where  BLAVER 

and  Miss  P.  are  sitting.     Both  rise.) 
Miss  P.     Professor  Cecil,  how  your  ears  must  burn  ! 
You  know  the  rumors  that  are  in  the  wind. 
CECIL  (bowing  and  motioning  them  to  be  seated) 
Trust  not  in  words  with  wind  alone  to  back  them. 
Nothing  is  quite  so  empty  as  the  sky 
Behind  a  blow,  when  once  it  has  blown  by. 
(All  sit,  CECIL  taking  a  vacant  chair  at  the  table.) 
Miss  P.     That  does  for  you  to  say;  but  you  two 
friends, 

(bowing  to  BLAVER.) 
Your  judgment, 

(bowing  to  CECIL.) 

and  your  judgments,  when  they  rule 
Our  civil,  social,  educational  ways, 
Will  put  a  close  to  some  things. 
CECIL.  To  their  life? 

Miss  P.     How  you  enjoy  a  joke! — You  read,  not 
so? 

(gesturing  toward  BLAVER.) 
The  deacon's  latest  work? 
CECIL.  To  tell  the  truth, 

I  have  not  yet 

One  time  upon  a  mountain  top,  I  saw 
My  own  shape  magnified  on  clouds  about  me. 
How  many  men  in  earth's  high  places  find, 
Looming  on  clouds  of  false  regard  about  them, 
False  forms  of  self,  distorted  in  their  size ! 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  337 

Mlss  P-  So  little  interest?— 

CECIL.     Of  course  the  question  has  two  sides 

BLAVER  (aside). 

Two  sides? — 

It  has  but  one.     I  see— he  is  not  with  us. 
Miss  P.     The  great  book  of  the  age  ! 
BLAVER  (to  Miss  P). 

You  flatter  me. 
(to  CECIL). 

She  likes  my  essay,  since,  on  general  grounds, 
As  I  detail  the  duties  of  the  state, 
I  argue  prohibition  by  the  whole 
Of  all  things  detrimental  to  the  part, 
Applying  this,  not  only  to  the  cause 
To  which  my  life  is  pledged,  but  with  this,  too, 
To  questions  like  the  giving  of  instruction 
To  slaves,  and  free  tuition  to  poor  whites, 
And  throwing  open  to  our  girls  and  women 
The  State  schools,  not  the  ones  to  train  their  sex. 
It  is  my  proving  of  this  latter  point 
Enlists  her  praise,  whose  long — 

(Miss  P.  straightens  up  and  draw   back.) 

no,  I  mean  wide — 

Whose  wide  experience,  as  the  principal 
Of  our  first  female  college,  seals  her  right 

To  waken  such  to  their  own  true  position, 
Thank  heaven  for  precipices  !     When  they  fall, 
Their  views  of  God  and  self,  turned  upside  down, 
May  bring,  at  last,  conversion. 


338  CECIL    THE    SEER. 

To  criticise  all  efforts  of  the  State 

To  train  our  girls  in  different  schools  from  hers." 

Miss  P.     Oh,  you  must  read  his  book! — will  like 

it  too; 

If  but  for  what  it  says  of  slaves  and  women. 
CECIL,    You  class  the  two  together?    I  should  not 
(aside] 

How  women  love  their  fetters! — Best,  perhaps! 

They  make  sweet  slaves,  but  very  bitter  masters. 
Miss  P.     You  would  not  open  then  our  college-door 

To  women  ? 
CECIL.  Why  not  ? 

Miss  P.  Why,  our  boys  and  girls 

Might  think  of  love  ! 
CECIL.  That  would  be  no  new  thing ; 

And,  being  wont  to  walk  in  love,  when  young, 

They  might  be  much  less  prone  to  fall  in  love, 

In  ways  not  wise,  when  older. 
Miss  P.  But  their  minds 


22  CECIL  (in  good-natured  banter). 

Ah,  yes,  I  see.     The  same  boat  floats  you  both. 
You  pull  together.     Friends  are  worth  the  having 
Who  best  can  serve  themselves  when  serving  us. 

83  Miss  P.  Always  ? 

CECIL.  No ; 

But  oftener,  yes  much  oftener  so,  than  elsewise. 

Where  true  love  is  the  treasure  to  be  sought, 

One  glimpse  of  nature  is  a  better  guide 

Than  all  the  forms  of  calculating  art 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  339 

Are  so  unlike  ! — 

CECIL.  And  never  can  be  matched 

Until  they  learn  to  share  each  other's  aims. 
Souls  are  not  mated  when  two  forms  of  flesh 
Join  hands,  or  merely  share  each  other's  arms. 

Miss  P.     And    you    would  have  them   like  each 
other? 

CECIL.  Yes. 

It  seems  important  if  they  are  to  marry. 
Like  ought  to  go  with  like.     And  paths  that  push 
Young  men  and  maids  together,  whet  their  wits 
And  make  their  weddings  wise  ones.28 

Miss  P.  One  scarce 

Would  think  you  had  so  much  romance  in  you.24 

CECIL.     Romance  is  but  the  day-time  of  the  soul 
Well  sunned  by  love,  beneath  which,  when  we 

dwell, 

Each  act  of  duty  and  each  thought  of  truth 
Is  haloed  with  a  light  that  seems  like  heaven's. 

That  ever  powdered  an  instinctive  flush, 
Or  rouged  pale  hate,  in  any  masquerade 
That  men  call  good  society. 
94  CECIL.     All  have  romance,  if  only  they  have  soul. 

They  differ  but  in  their  expressions  of  it. 
Enter— Left  Upper—}™,  with  tray  holding  more 

refreshments. 
Miss  P.     And  most  of  them  believe,  with  Deacon 

Blaver, 

It  should  not  be  expressed  in  schools. 
CECIL.  Why  not? 


340  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

To  spirits  rightly  moved,  the  whole  of  life, 
Home,   school,   religion — all   lead   through    ro- 


Exit — Left  Upper  Entrance — MADAM  CECIL, 
and  LOWE,  carrying  his  plans,  also  FREE 
MAN. 

MADAM  CECIL  (bowing  to  Miss  P.  and  BLAVER,  then 
speaking  to  CECIL.     All  three  rise.) 

85(jEM  speaks  aside  to  CECIL.) 
CECIL  (rising). 

(BLAVER  and  Miss  P.  rise  while  CECIL  gestures 
toward  chairs,  JEM  and  the  refreshments.) 
Oh,  pray  be  seated,  and  take  more. 
Miss  P.  Thanks. 

BLAVER.  Thanks, 

(JEM  removes  from  table  the  empty  glasses  and  plates 

and  substitutes  full  ones.} 

Miss  P.     And  do  you  then  approve,  do  you  admire 
Lean,  short-haired  women,  and  lank,  long-haired 

men, 

Exchanging  shawls  and  coats,  and  stripping  life 
Of  character,  to  make  it  caricature  ? 

Exit— Left  Upper  Entrance — JEM. 
CECIL.     I  do  not  much  admire  the  straw  in  spring 
That  forms  the  spread  of  flower-beds  ;  but 

beneath 

Sleep  summer's  fairest  offspring.     What  you  moot 
May  show  two  sides.     A  man  may  be  run  down 
Amid  the  clash  and  clangor  of  a  street, 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  K, 

Oh,  here  you  are  !     Come  look  at  these— 
(Pointing  to  LOWE'S  flans.) 

these  plans. 

Are  just  the  thing  the  city  needs.     We  two 
Were  searching  all  the  house  for  you. 
CECIL  (replying  partly  to  MADAM  C.  and  partly  speak 
ing  to  LOWE). 

I  see. 


Because  one  ear  is  deaf.     In  any  path, 
The  rush  of  life  may  run  down  all  who  hear 
But  on  one  side. 

Enter— Right  Upper  Entrance— FREEMAN. 
Miss  P-  But  when  one  side  is  right. 

CECIL.     The  right  is  that  to  which  the  world  moves 

on. 

You  cross  its  track  t    stop  it ;  it  moves  on, 
You  fall. 
(CECIL  bows  and  turns  toward  FREEMAN.     BLAVER  and 

Miss  P.  bow,  then  reseat  themselves.) 
Miss  P.     And  this  he  does  not  mean  to  do 

For  my  cause  or  for  yours.     Trust  me  for  that. 
BLAVER.     His  friends  must  see  he  does  not  get  so 

high 
That  falling  far  will  hurt  him. 

(BLAVER  and  Miss  P.  continue  to  eat  and 
drink,  and  talk  aside,  till,  after  a  little, 
BLAVER/0zVz/.r  vigorously  toward  the  Right 
Second  Entrance.  Then  both  rise,  taking 
plates  and  glasses  with  them,  and  exeunt 
at  Right  Second  Entrance.) 


342  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

LOWE     (pointing  to  apart  of  the  plan}.    And  see  the 

church  here  ? 
CECIL.  Oh  !  is  that  the  church  ? 

But  I  thought  you  a  friend  ? 
LOWE.  The  company 

Are  world's  folk — will  not  build  a  meeting.     So 

We  would  not  quarrel  with  them.     We  build  this. 

Exeunt— Right  Second—Miss  P.  and  BLAVER. 
FREEMAN.     Ah  yes  ! 
LOWE.  With  me  religion  is  the  chief 

Consideration.     Think  how  poor  our  life 

Would  be  without  religion. 
FREEMAN.  Be  less  rich, 

You  think. 
LOWE.  Just  so ;  for  there  is  nothing  like 

A  church  to  elevate  the  character 

FREEMAN.     Of  real  estate. 

LOWE.  Yes,  and  of  people,  too.9' 


26  FREEMAN.     No  people  live  here  yet  ? 

LOWE.  Ah,  but  they  will 

FREEMAN.     If  you  do  what  is  right  to  draw  them 
here. 

To  build  a  church  is  right — not  so  ? — and  right 

Is  your  religion. 
LOWE.  Yes  ;  but  one  might  think 

His  motives  were  not  rightly  understood 

(looking  toward  CECIL). 

You  like  the  plans  then  ? 
FREEMAN.  Oh,  he  must — as  plans. 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  343 

CECIL.     Quite  true. 

LOWE  (to  CECIL).     Am  glad  to  meet  your  approba 
tion. 

CECIL  (taking  the  plans  in  his  hands)?1     One  can 
not  fully  take  these  in  at  first. 
I  must  have  time  in  which  to  look  them  over. 
Exit — Right  Third  Entrance — FREEMAN. 

Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — JEM. 
MADAM  C.  (to  LOWE,  as  if  with  a  covert  meaning). 
I  must  have  time  to  look  them  over  with  him. 
(She   motions  toward  JEM,  to   whom  CECIL 
hands  the  plans,  at  the  same  time  motion 
ing  to  him  to  take  them  to  the  Left.     JEM 
turns.) 

Exit — Left  Second  Entrance — JEM. 

(  When  CECIL  and  MADAM  C.  turn  toward  JEM,  LOWE 

turns  toward  the  Right  Third  Entrance. ) 


They  plan  so  far  ahead. 
LOWE.  A  man  who  sees 

A  mountain  in  his  path  that  must  be  climbed, 
Will  make  more  effort.     Effort  is  our  need. 
With  such  a  plan  as  this,  our  friends  will  know 
We  need  more  money,  and  will  find  us  more. 

27  CECIL.     Not  that,  quite  that !     Men  take  too  many 

chances 
In  drawing  facts  from  fancies.     I  shall  need 


344  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

LOWE  (to  HIMSELF), 

And  when  the  time  comes  that  he  needs  a  friend, 

May  I  take  him  in,  and  look  over  him. 

Exit — Right  Third  Entrance — LOWE. 
MADAM  C.    (to  CECIL,  and  evidently  annoyed  to   see 
LOWE  leaving  them). 

Kraft,  Hycher,  Lowe  and  Blaver, — all,  to-night, 

All  frown  at  things  that  you  have  said  to  them. 

Why  will  you  always  give  these  men  offense  ? 
CECIL.     Because  I  give  them  truth. 
MADAM  C.  Truth  is  for  fools. 

CECIL.     I  give  it  to  them. 

MADAM  C.  Humph  !     It  comes  from  fools. 

CECIL.     Yes,  if  they  think  men  want  it.     I  do  not. 

They  only  need  it. 

MADAM  C.  Need  ?     What  for  ? 

CECIL.  Their  good — 

Their  own,  and — say — humanity's. 
MADAM  C.  The  good 

All  seek  from  men  like  you,  is  leadership. 

But  he  who  leads  men  up,  himself  must  mount 


28  CECIL  (kindly). 

Come,  come,  your  wishes,  like  wild  steeds, 
escape 

The  reining  of  your  reason,  and  may  wreck  it. 

Why  wish  a  station  higher  than  we  have  ? 
MADAM  C.     For  you — your  influence. 
CECIL.  Nay,  in  that  you  err. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  345 

Where  he  appears  above  them. 
CECIL.  How  and  where 

He  mounts,  depends  on  that  in  which  he  leads. 
A  leader  in  the  truth  would  better  kneel 
Upon  the  footstool  of  a  throne,  than  sit 
Upon  it,  crowned  by  falsehood. 
MADAM  C.  Would  you  were, 

But  what  I  thought  you  were  when  we  were  wed ! 28 
A  woman  wrecked  at  sea,  would  better  lash 
The  anchor  to  her  throat,  than  try  to  breast 
The  waves  of  life  in  such  a  world  as  this, 
Wed  to  a  man  without  ambition.     She 
Could  not  sink  sooner. 
CECIL  (gazing  and  gesturing  at  their  surroundings). 

Do  you  sink,  my  wife, 
With  such  surroundings  ? 

MADAM  C.  Yes,  for  power  and  wealth 

Both  loom  before  you.     When  I  tell  it  you, 
And  strive  to  urge  you  toward  them,  you,   blind 

loot, 
Squat,  blinking  like  an  owl ;  or,  if  you  stir, 


True  words  alone  are  weapons  of  true  thought. 
If  I  be  free  to  use  these,  I  am  free 
To  be  truth's  champion.     If,  to  gain  the  place 
You  wish  me,  or  to  hold  it,  being  gained, 
I  let  my  tongue  be  tied,  I  live  a  slave. 
MADAM  C. 

A  woman  wrecked,  etc. 


346  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

But  flutter,  blunder,  miss  your  aim,  and  fall 
From  off  the  very  branch,  the  topmost  branch, 
You  ought  to  perch  upon. 
CECIL.  Alas,  my  wife, 

I  thought  you  loved  me  for  the  man  I  was. 
I  never  wrought  or  wished  for  wealth. 
MADAM  C.  Oh,  drone, 

That  I  could  sting  you,  as  do  bees  their  drones 
That  make  no  honey  ! 

CECIL.  You  do  sting  at  times. 

That     pleases    you?  —  But     you     have     bette 

moods. 

I  never  could  have  thought  I  loved  you  else. 
Why  blame  my  soul,  because  it  must  be  true 
To  higher  aims  and  higher  influence? 
If,  seeking  these,  this  world's  promotion  come, 
Let  come!     I  take  it  then  by  right  divine. 
MADAM  C.     Fanatic!     Do  you  think  in  men's  ma( 

rush, 
Each  toward  his  own  life's  goal,  they  wrest  the 

power 

That  makes  another  serve  them,  without  work? — 
Skill  ?    shrewdness  ?    tact  ?    and    forcing  to  the 

wall, 

Or  down  the  precipice,  each  weaker  rival? 
CECIL.     I  do,  if  power  that  crowns  them  come  from 

God. 

MADAM  C.     The  power  that  crowns  one  with  suc 
cess  on  earth 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  347 

Is  earthly.     Keen  men  know  this.    Not,  not  God : 
The  devil  rules  the  world. 

CECIL.  God  overrules  it. 

MADAM  C.     In  far  results,  but  in  the  near  ones 

never! 
CECIL.     Then  look  to  far  results.     Transferring 

there 
These  transient  whims, — ah  you  will  find  them 

melt, 

Like  summer  mist,  while,  rock-bound  under  them, 
Each    goal    remains     that     your     true    nature 

craves. 

Why  seek  for  riches,  when  we  have  enough? 
MADAM  C.     Enough!     Oh,  sluggard!      Have  we 

that? 
CECIL.          We  have — 

Enough  for  comfort,  not  enough  for  care  ; 
Enough  to  make  us  grateful  for  the  wage 
Rewarding  earnest  work  ;  but  not  enough 
To  bind  long  habit  to  their  fate  whose  course 
While  serving  earth  has  made  them  slaves  to  it. 
The  peace  of  life  crowns  competence,  not  wealth 
The  wise  man  wants  no  more. 
MADAM  C.  But  woman  does. 

Exit — Left  Second  Entrance — MADAM  CECIL. 
CECIL.     Then    let   no   wise    man    marry.     Cursed 

fate  !— 

This  trudging  on  and  on  in  paths  of  right, 
And  knowing  every  pace  takes  one  more  stride 


348  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

Away  from  all  one  loves  ! — From  all  one  loves  ? — 
No,  no  ; — from  all  that,  once,  one  thought  he  loved. 
Oh,  cruel  customs  of  a  cruel  world, 
Which  damn  us  for  those  dreams  that  seem  to  be 
Our  holiest  inspirations  !     Cruel  dreams, 
That  never  prove  delusions,  till  the  world 
Welds  bonds  for  us  that  death  alone  can  break ! 
And  cruel  bonds  that  make  all  happiness, 
In  one  so  bound,  impossibility, 
Unless  he  live  a  sneak's  life — who  is  this  ? 
Enter — Right  Second  Entrance — CELIA. 
Why,  Celia  ! 

CELIA.             I  have  come  to  tell  you,  friend, 
The  man  I  fear  is  here.     I  saw  his  face, 
And  like  a  thunder-cloud  foretelling  storm 

CECIL.     Come  first  where  we  shall  not  be  overheard. 

Exeunt — Left  Upper  Entrance — CECIL  and  CELIA. 

Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — FREEMAN  and 

FAITH. 

FREEMAN.     You  love  me,    Faith.     Your   manner 
tells  me  so. 


29  FAITH.     I  would  not  give  you  up  so,  save  to 

wed 
A  holier  spouse. 

FREEMAN.  Yet  one  that  is,  at  times, 

A  Moloch,  clasping  in  his  arms  of  fire 
Desires  he  kindles,  but  can  never  quench. 

FAITH.     Oh,  Freeman,  when   you  speak,    I   tremble 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  349 


FAITH.    Your  rival,  Freeman,  is  no  man,  mere  man. 
FREEMAN.     You  are  deceived.     You  vow  through 

— to — a  man. 

And  he  will  treat  you — how? — His  door  is  locked : 
He  holds  the  key.     Your  uncle,  though  a  priest, 
Has  eyes  upon  your  wealth.     The  thing  is  proved. 
Your  dying  father  feared  this.     Faith,  I  know 
His  wish  for  you.      Trust   him,   trust  me,  your 

friend, 

Disrobed  of  mystery,  save  th'  eternal  one 
Which  thrills  us  now,  whom  heaven  has  made  for 

mates.** 

Enter — Left    Second  Entrance — FATHER    HYCHER. 
FATHER  H.  (to  FAITH). 

What  ? — Have  I  warned   you,  Faith,    so    many 

times  ? 

And  you  still  parley  with  this  infidel  ? — 
Obey  me  now  ! — Away,  no  more  of  this  ! 

(FAITH  moves  toward  Left  Upper  Entrance — 
FREEMAN  starts  to  follow  her.  FATHER 
HYCHER  calls  to 


You  fill  my  soul  with  fears  for  you  ;  but,  ah, 
With  fears  that  are  so  sweet,  again  I  fear 
That  my  own  soul  is  what  I  most  should  fear. 
FREEMAN.     The  wise  fright  off  their  fears  by  facing 

them. 

Will  you  not  be  my  bride  ?    Be  this  and  use 
Your  freedom  as  your  father  would  have  wished. 


350  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

You  will  not  follow  her  ? — 

Exit — Left  Upper  Entrance — FAITH. 
FREEMAN.  No  ? — wherefore  not  ? 

FATHER  H.     I  am  her  uncle. 

FREEMAN.  Not  her  father,  though  ! 

FATHER  H.     Her  spirit's — I  direct  her  steps. 
FREEMAN.  Step-father  ? — 

In  that  role  men  like  you  are  just  ideal ! 

But  I  am,  that  which  you  are  not — her  friend. 


80  And  she  has  wealth,  and  you  have  use  for  it. 
FATHER  H.     And  you  think  you  have  none  !    Oho, 
young  man, 

When  you  have  read  yourself,  you  may  be  heard 

When  trying  to  read  others.     But  we  waste 

Our  time.     I  am  her  guardian  ;  and  you 

Should  act  the  gentleman. 
FREEMAN.  Which  when  I  act, 

I  shall  not  take  my  lessons  all  from  you. 
FATHER  H.     Take  this  at  least. — A  gentleman  is 
one 

Who  never  does  the  unexpected. 
FREEMAN.  Well, 

By  that  test  you  can  pass.     I  grant  it  you. 

All  you  have  done  has  been  in  character. 

You  call  me  infidel ;  but,  Father  Hycher, 

The  infidel  is  one  who  does  not  trust 

The  power  that  made  and  moves  the  soul  within. 

If  Faith  did  not  desire  another  life 

Than  you  have  planned,  you  might  be  wis'e  and 
kind. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  351 

FATHER  H.     You  are  a  young  man  with  a  young 

man's  dreams. 
FREEMAN.     You  are  an  old  man  ;  and  an  old  man 

schemes.80 
FATHER  H.     Humph,   humph,  my  friend !    You 

may  regret  this  yet. 

Exit — Left  Second  Entrance — FATHER  HYCHER. 
Enter  Left   Upper  Entrance— CECIL  and   CELIA. 


FATHER  II.      Poor    youth,    when    you    know    more 

about  the  world 

FREEMAN.     I   shall  know  more  about  such  men  a 

you; 

Know  how  the  dust  of  earth  can  make  one  blind, 
And  din  can  make  one  deaf,  till  skies  can  blaze 
And  heaven's  voice  thunder,  yet  no  sight  nor 
sound 

Reach 

FATHER  H.  (sarcastically). 

What  ?— 

FREEMAN.     What  was  a  soul !    But  there  are  souls 
Are  stolen  too  when  stoled.     The  devil's  hand 
Outdoes  the  deacon's.     There  is  nothing  left 
But  vestment.     All  the  barterer's  priceless  birth 
right 

Goes  for  the  mess  of  pottage  that  he  feeds  on. 
Not  strange  such  like  to  limit  other's  joys, 
Turn  nature  inside  out  and  upside  down, 
Claim  spirit  rules  where  all  are  slaves  of  sense, 
And     heaven     their     crown     whose     realms    are 
rimmed  by  hell. 


352  CECIL   THE  SEEK. 

CECIL     (to  FREEMAN.) 

Why,  friend,  you  seem  excited.     What  has  roiled 

you  ? 
FREEMAN.     Oh    nothing,     nothing,    nothing  but   a 

toad 

That  squat  upon  a  flower  here  in  your  garden  ! 
CECIL.     Here    is    another    flower    may    take    its 

place. 

I  must  attend  the  guests,  and  this,  our  friend, 
Needs  your  protection.     She  will  tell  you  why. 
I  leave  her  with  you. 

Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — MADAM  CECIL. 
(CECIL  continues  to  CELIA,  taking  her  hand?) 

And  remember,  Celia, 
You  must  not  fail  to  stay  with  us  to-night. 
MADAM  CECIL  (aside). 

I  thought  so  !     I  have  spied  this  play  before. 
Men  seldom  waive  the  wishes  of  their  wives 
Except  to  welcome  other  women's  wishes. 
(to  CECIL,  while.  CELIA  talks  aside  to  FREEMAN 

after  both  have  bowed  to  CECIL.) 
You  have  forgotten  you  have  other  guests. 


31  FATHER  H.     Your  candlesticks  too  go  so  well  now 

with 

FREEMAN  (to  CELIA). 
Their  lack  of  light. 
FATHER  H.  (to  WIDOW  H.). 

The  other  ornaments. 


CECIL   THE  SEER. 


353 


A  storm  is  coming  on.     They  wish  to  leave  ; 
And  we  should  speed  their  parting.    Shall  we  go  ? 
(CECIL  and  MADAM  C.  move  toward  the  Left 
Second  Entrance — FREEMAN  and  CELIA 
move    toward   the    bay   window    at  the 
Right) 

FREEMAN  (motioning  toward  the  bay  window). 
By  staying  here,  we  may  keep  out  the  way. 

Exeunt — Left  Second  Entrance — CECIL  and 
MADAM  C.  FREEMAN  and  CELIA  seat 
themselves  in  the  bay  window. 

Enter — Left  Upper — FATHER  and  WIDOW  HYCHER. 
FATHER  HYCHER  (to  WIDOW  HYCHER). 

Let  him  have  all  her  money  that  you  live  on? — 
Not  I! 
WIDOW  H.  (to  FATHER  H.).     He  shall  not  call  on 

Faith  again. 

FATHER  H.     She  may  be  out? 
WIDOW  H.  She  may. — And  you,  you  liked 

The  stole? 
FATHER  H.     One  could  not  be  embroidered  better. 

With  just  the  shade 

WIDOW  H.     Suits  your  complexion,  yes.81 — 
And  Cecil — will  he  aid  you  ? 


WIDOW  H.  (to  FATHER  H.). 

They  all  are  just  before  you  when  you  pray? 
FATHER  H.  (to  WIDOW  H.). 

They  are. 


354  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

FATHER  H.  (to  WIDOW  H.). 

Humph !  a  cause 
Once  lost  is  not  the  one  I  follow. 
Exeunt — Left  Second — FATHER  HYCHER  and 

WIDOW  HYCHER. 
CELIA  (to  FREEMAN).     Cause? — 

Does  he  mean  Cecil's? 

FREEMAN.  Hope  so!     Happy  Cecil! — 

High  noon  will  come  for  him  when  he  can  see 
A  form  like  that  one  shadowing  him  no  more. 
CELIA.     I  think  it  always  may  seem  noon  to  those 
Who  trample  all  their  shadows  underfoot 
As  he  does. 
Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — LOWE  and  MADAM 

LOWE. 

(The  stage  becomes  gradually  darker.} 
FREEMAN  (pointing  toward  Right  Upper  Entrance). 
Very  true !     But  what  of  those 

WIDOW  H.  (to  FATHER  H.). 

Heaven  seems  less  likely  to  forget 
One  thought  of  thus  in  prayer. 
FATHER  H.   (to  WIDOW  H.). 

Who  could  forget 

Your  deeds  in  rendering  the  church  attractive  ? 
FREEMAN  (to  CELIA). 

Yes,  in  the  front  pew  with  her  flower-bed 

bonnet. 
FATHER  H.  (to  WIDOW  H.). 

I  think  that  all  men  must  have  noticed  this. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  355 

Who  deem  it  wise  to  keep  themselves  in  shade, 
Held  as  a  shield  to  ward  away  the  light 
With  every  ray  of  color  that  might  reach  them, 
As  if  they  thought  it  their  worst  enemy? 
LOWE  (to  MADAM  LOWE). 

The  air  seems  weighted  with  a  coming  storm." 

(  Thunder  in  the  distance?) 
MADAM  L.     How  near  !     We  should  have  been  at 

meeting  I 
LOWE  (to  MADAM  L. 

Yes, 

But  if  we  had  been  there,  how  could  one  then 
Have  shown  those  plans  ? 
MADAM  L.  (to  LOWE). 

Of  course,  we  had  to  come, 
But  this  man  Cecil  seems  not  pious. 
LOWE  (to  MADAM  L.). 

No; 


FREEMAN  (to  CELIA). 

I  fear  so  ;  for  you  know  heads  crown'd  with  flowers 
Nod  most  for  bees  that  buzz  and  sting  about  them. 

WIDOW  H.  (to  FATHER  H.).     And  Cecil — will  he  aid 
you  ?  etc. 

33  FREEMAN  (to  CELIA). 

Their  airs  appear  so.     Yes. 
MADAM  L.  (to  LOWE). 

Must  hurry  home. 

How  near,  etc. 


CECIL  THE  SEEK. 

You   heard  how  they  made  light  of  that  new 

building, — 

One,  too,  for  their  own  sect! 
MADAM  L.  (to  LOWE). 

Yes,  I  have  heard 

Enough  for  once.     That  irreligious  music! 
LOWE  (to  MADAM  L.). 

And  noise  and  dancing!     It  was  fortunate 
The  supper-room  was  opened  early. 
MADAM  L.  (to  LOWE).  Yes. 

{Distant  thunder. ) 
LOWE  (to  MADAM  L.). 

And  one  good  thing! — this  thunder  storm  will 
end  it. 

Exeunt — Left  Upper  Entrance — LOWE  and  MADAM 
LOWE. 

FREEMAN  (to  CELIA). 

I  wonder  if  they  really  grudge  each  draft 
Of  those  enjoying  what  is  past  their  taste? 
I  hate  to  think  it,  yet  at  times,  one  must, 
That  some  men  deem  mere  conscious  envy  con 
science; 
And  seem  most  zealous  when  they  are  but  jealous. 

{Thunder  louder  than  before.) 


88  BLAVER.     A  man  like  him  will  never  aid  my  plans, 
Nor  yours. 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  357 

CELIA  and  FREEMAN  both  rise. 
But  hear  the  storm.     I  think  it  best  you  stay 
Inside  the  study. 

(FREEMAN  points  toward  Left  Second  Entrance.} 
CELIA  {pointing  toward  the  right}. 

We  can  pass  through  here. 
FREEMAN.     And  I  must  go,  and  call  these  men  I 

know, 
Detectives — good  ones — they  will  shadow  him. 

Exeunt— Right    Front    Entrance— FREEMAN     and 
CELIA. 

Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — BLAVER,  LOWE, 
Miss  PRIMWOOD  and  MADAM  LOWE,  and 
others,  all  with  hats  and  cloaks,  evidently 
prepared  to  leave  the  house. 
BLAVER  (to  LOWE). 

I  used  to  have  some  confidence  in  Cecil. 
LOWE  (to  BLAVER). 

But  now  he  shows  this  lack  of  enterprise  ! " 
Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — MADAM  CECIL,  fol 
lowed  by  JEM. 

MADAM  C.  (to  Miss  PRIMWOOD). 
You  leave  us  in  a  storm. 


LOWE.  And  wise  men,  when  they  fear  a  fight, 

Will  never  lend  one  weapon  to  a  foe. 


358  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

BLAVER  (to  MADAM  CECIL). 

It  will  clear  off.84 
I  thank  you  for  a  very  pleasant  evening. 

{Shaking  hands  with  MADAM  C.) 
MADAM  C.  (shaking  hands  with  BLAVER). 
Good  evening. 

(To  JEM.) 

Here,  Jem,  show  them  to  the  gate. 
MADAM  C.  motions  to  JEM  who  moves  toward 
Right  Upper  Entrance — Miss  PRIMWOOD, 
then    LOWE,    then    MADAM    LOWE,    also 
others,  shake  hands  with  MADAM  C. 
Miss  P.     Good-night. 
MADAM  C.  Good-night. 

LOWE.  Good-night. 

MADAM  L.  Good-night. 

MADAM  C.  Good-night. 

Exeunt — Right  Upper  Entrance — BLAVER  with 
Miss    PRIMWOOD,    LOWE   with   MADAM 
LOWE  and  others,  also  JEM. 
Enter — Right  Third  Entrance— KRAFT.35 

{Thunder  and  storm  increase?) 
KRAFT  (to  MADAM  C.).   Where  went  your  husband  ? 

34  MADAM  C.     And  when  the  sun  is  shining  here,  you 

know 

Where  you  can  find  a  friend. 

BLAVER  (rather  significantly,   as  he  offers  his    arm   to 
Miss  PRIMWOOD). 

Yes — one — I  do. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  359 

MADAM  C.  He  ?— With  guests,  perhaps. 

KRAFT.     Or,  say,  with  Celia. 

MADAM  C.  What  ?— Your  scheme 

has  failed  ? 
KRAFT.     Not  yet ;  my  men  are  here. 

Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — JEM. 
(Thunder  and  lightning — KRAFT  points  toward  JEM.) 

You  send  for  him, 
And  I  will  send  for  her. 

Exit— Right  Third  Entrance— KRAFT. 
MADAM  C.  (to  JEM). 

Jem,  find  your  master. 
I  wish  to  see  him.     Say  it  is  important. 
Exit — Right  Upper  Entrance — JEM. 

(to  herself^) 

Now  let  him  leave  her  but  one  little  moment, 
As  leave  he  must,  and  they  will  have  her  seized. 
And  may  a  pall,  as  black  as  tops  this  night, 

(Thunder  and  lightning). 

Come  down,  and  hide  her  face  from  him  forever. 
Oh,  naught  but  death,  or  burial  deep  as  death, 
Can  ever  fitly  robe  a  form  once  wedged 
Between  a  man  and  wife  !  —  Though  what  care  I  ?- 

36  MADAM  C.  (to  KRAFT). 
Have  all  our  guests  gone  ? 

( Thunder  and  storm  increase?) 
KRAFT.  No  ;  for  I  am  here. 

MADAM  C.     You  feel  at    home    without    the   going 
there  ? 


360  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

Kraft  hates  my  husband  ;  yet  is  wholly  mine  ; 
And  so  I  get  my  wish. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 
Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — CECIL. 
CECIL  (to  MADAM  CECIL).     What  is  your  wish  ? 
MADAM  C.     And  what  care  you,  my  husband,  for 

my  wish  ? 

Oh,  I  was  but  a  fool,  to  wed  a  fool ! 
Like  goes  with  like.     I  now  acknowledge  it. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 
You  might  have  been — ah  me  ! — what  might  you 

not? 

Position,  wealth, — all  waited  on  your  nod. 
You  have  dismissed  them  by  your  course  to-night ; 
But   one   hope    now  remains,   and   that   through 

Kraft. 
Enter — Right  First  Entrance — in  trepidation,  CELIA. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 
CELIA.     Help  !  help  ! 
CECIL  (to  CELIA). 

Come  here.     What  is  it? 
CELIA.  He — with  men! 

They  come  to  take  me. 

CECIL.  That  they  shall  not  do. 

MADAM  C.     Wait,  wait!    Her  guardian  claims  her. 

Who  are  you? 

CECIL.     A  man  who  shields  a  woman. 
MADAM  C.  If  she  lie? — 

CECIL.     Then  he  can  prove  it. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  361 

MADAM  C.  Dare  you  tell  him  that  ?— - 

Him,  Kraft, — the  man  on  whom  alone  depends 
Your  chance  now  for  promotion  ? 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 
CELIA  (to  CECIL.) 

Do  not  harm 
Yourself. 
CECIL  (to  CELIA). 

But  sacrifice  this  gentle  lamb 
To  wild  ambition  ? — Never  ! — Hide  in  here ! 
(CECIL  points  toward  Left  Upper  Entrance?) 

Exit — Left  Upper  Entrance — CELIA. 
MADAM  C.  (to  CECIL). 

You  do  not  know — They  claim  her  as  a  slave. 
CECIL  (to  MADAM  C.).  I  save  her  as  a  woman. 
MADAM  C.  But  the  law — 

The  sentiment — the  spirit  of  the  State. — 
You  dare  not  shield  her. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 

CECIL.  Wherefore  dare  I  not  ? 

MADAM    C.     No   man   has   ever  yet  with  us  been 

left 

Not  ruined — left  alive — who  ventured  this. 
Your  influence,  your  position,  property, 
Your  life,  my  home,  my  hope  for  you, — all,  all 
Would  all  be  forfeited. 

{Thunder  and  lightning?) 
CECIL.  Well,  let  them  go. 


CECIL  THE  SEER. 

When  they  have  stripped  me  of  all  things  be 
sides, 

I  shall  have  left  a  clean,  clear  conscience,  death 
And  heaven. 

MADAM  C.     You  madman! 
CECIL.  Not  as  mad  as  you: 

I  wait  for  proof. 

MADAM  C.  And  if  they  prove  their  case? — 

CECIL.     I  wait  then  till  they  take  her.     But  they 
come. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 

Enter — Right  Front  Entrance — KRAFT  with  two  men. 

KRAFT  (to  CECIL). 
Is  Celia  here  ? 

(advancing  toward  Left  Upper  Entrance?) 
I  say,  is  Celia  here  ? 
CECIL  (standing  in  front  of  Left  Upper  Entrance— 

and  looking  around). 
I  do  not  see  her  here. 
KRAFT.  I  too  have  eyes. 

I  did  not  ask  that.     She  was  in  this  house. 
CECIL.     She  was  my  guest ;  if  she  be  still  within 

Then  still  she  is  my  guest. 
KRAFT.  I  am  her  guardian. 

CECIL.     And  so  am  I,  while  I  remain  her  host. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 

(CECIL  looks  at  the  men  behind  KRAFT.) 

You  seem  to  wish  to  guard  her  well, — too  well. 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  363 

KRAFT.     I    do    and    shall  — for   she   belongs   to 

me. 

CECIL.     Well,  prove  your  case. 
I  KRAFT.  You  ask  for  proof  from  me, — 

A  gentleman  ? — 

CECIL.  I  ask  for  proof  from  you. 

KRAFT.     You  hint  I  am  no  gentleman  ? 
CECIL.  I  Say 

You  are  not  gentle  in  your  present  mood  ; 
And  that  child  is — too  gentle  far  for  you. 
KRAFT.     What  ? — You  defy  me  ? — I  shall  search  for 
her. 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 
CECIL.     Not  till  you  get  by  me  ! 

(CECIL  pulls  out  a  pistol.     MADAM  C.  seizes  if.) 
i  KRAFT.  And  that  we  shall  ! 

(KRAFT  dashes  at  CECIL,  followed  by  his  men. 
Pistol  fired  behind  scene,  but  apparently  on 
stage.      CECIL  falls.      Terrific    thunder 
and  lightning?) 
,  Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — FREEMAN  with  two 

detectives. 
i  FREEMAN.     Here!  seize  them!     Stop  the  villains, 

every  one  ! 
\Exeunt — Left   Second    Entrance — KRAFT   and  men, 

followed  by  detectives. 

Enter — Left  Upper  Entrance — CELIA,  and 
bends  over  CECIL,  excitedly  examining  into 
his  condition. 


3^4  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

(FREEMAN  snatches  pistol  from  MADAM  C,  saying  to 
her,) 

Aha,  you  are  the  murderer  ?  you  ?  eh  ? — you  ? 
MADAM  C.     I  did  not  fire  it. 
FREEMAN  (examining  pistol). 

One  ball  gone  !     Who  did  ? — 

Confess  it,  or  convict  your  lover,  Kraft. 
CELIA    (wringing  hands  over  CECIL'S  prostrate  body). 

Oh,  he  is  dead  for  me  ! — The  only  man 

I  ever  loved  is  dead  for  me,  for  me  ! 

(Thunder  and  lightning?) 
CURTAIN. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  365 


ACT  SECOND. 

SCENE  FIRST  :  A  sick  chamber.  At  the  Left,  between 
the  Front  and  Second  Entrances,  is  an  alcove;  in 
this,  visible  to  the  audience,  is  a  bed,  beside  the  bed  is 
a  chair  and  a  small  table,  and  on  the  latter  are 
bottles  and  glasses.  On  the  bed,  CECIL  lies  insen 
sible,  with  his  head  to  the  audience  and  his  face  to 
ward  the  stage.  Just  behind  CECIL,  lying  also  on 
the  bed,  but  concealed  in  this  scene,  is  an  effigy  ex 
actly  resembling  him.  Forming  the  back  curtain  of 
the  stage,  is  a  wall  containing  a  bell-cord,  windows, 
possibly  a  door,  etc. 

ENTRANCES  :  by  doors  at  the  Right  and  Left 
Front  and  Second,  the  Left  Second  Entrance 
leading  apparently  to  the  space  behind  the 
bed  in  the  alcove. 

The  curtain  rising  discloses  a  PHYSICIAN  sit 
ting  in  the  chair  beside  the  bed,  and  CELIA 
just  entering  the  room,  or  standing  near 
him. 
CELIA  (aside). 

How  fortunate  for  Freeman  and  myself 

That  Kraft  and  Madam  Cecil  should  have  fled 


366  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

And  left  with  us  the  man  they  thought  was  mur 
dered  ! 
Now  we  can  nurse  him,  as  he  should  be  nursed. 

(to  the  PHYSICIAN.) 
How  does  he  seem  this  morning  ? 
PHYSICIAN.  Very  low. 

CELIA.     You  fear  he  never  will  recover,  then  ? 
PHYSICIAN    (rising  from   chair,  and  offering  it  to 

CELIA). 

No  man  could  tell — no  other  case  just  like  it. 
One  would  not  think  a  bullet  lodged  as  this  one 
Enough  to  insulate  the  brain  entirely, 
Yet  not  a  nerve  will  act.     He  scarcely  seems 
To  see,  or  hear,  or  even  feel  one  touch  him. 
CELIA  (looking  at  CECIL). 

It  seems  like  death. 

PHYSICIAN.  Yes,  very  much  like  death. 

CELIA.     He  seems  to  think,  though. 
PHYSICIAN.  Yes;  for  he  is  living. 

CELIA.     In  states  like  this,  what  can  a  person  think 

of? 
PHYSICIAN.     Why,  he  may  dream  of  what  he  did, 

and  was, 

And  wished  he  was,  before  he  reached  them. 
CELIA.  So? 

PHYSICIAN.     There  could  be  nothing  else  for  him 

to  think  of. 

CELIA.     I  sometimes  hope   he  knows  that  I  am 
by. 


CECIL  THE  SEER. 

PHYSICIAN  (rising  and  preparing  to  leave]. 
Perhaps  he  does.     At  any  sign  of  it, 
A   word   might    make    him   conscious   of   your 

presence, 

And  keep  him  so.  They  say  that  things  more  slight 
Than  flickering  flames,  attracting  consciousness 
At  times,  if  they  but  set  the  nerves  to  thrilling, 
Wake  slumbering  senses  into  life  again. 
CELIA.     I  thank  you  for  the  thought.     You  come 

to-morrow? 

PHYSICIAN.     To-morrow ;  yes.     Good-day. 
CELIA  (accompanying  the   PHYSICIAN  to  the  Right 
Second  entrance].  Good-day. 

Exit — Right  Second — PHYSICIAN. 
CELIA  looks  back  toward  CECIL  and  crosses  to  alcove). 

Poor  man  ! 

Can  this  be  Cecil  ? — Cecil  had  a  soul. — 
And  where  now  has  it  flown  ? — I  wonder  if 
My  voice  could  ever  really  call  him  back ! 
It  might? — Then  I  will  sit  here  day  by  day, 
And  take  his  hand  in  mine,  as  I  would  lead 
His  body,  were  he  in  the  body  still ; 
And  though  he  may  not  hear  the  thing  I  say, 
Nor  even  feel  me  touch  him,  who  can  tell 
But  I  may  find  him  where  the  spirit  dreams, 
And  comfort  him,  and  draw  him  here  once  more. 
(She  apparently  passes  around  the  foot  of  the  bed  to  its 

other  side.') 
Exit — Left  Second — CELIA. 


368  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

SCENE  SECOND  :  The  stage  is  darkened,  and  the  curtain 
forming  the  back  of  the  room  in  Scene  First  rises, 
leaving  everything  on  the  stage  the  same  as  in  this 
scene  with  exception  of  that  which  is  back  of  the 
Right  and  Left  Second  Entrances .  At  the  rear  of  the 
stage,  is  an  extensive  sylvan  landscape,  trees,  rocks, 
mosses,  etc.,  backed  by  higher  rocks  and  distant 
mountain  scenery.  The  leaves  are  colored  as  in 
autumn,  and  the  sky  as  at  sunrise.  Golden  light 
illumines  the  stage.  Backing,  near  the  center  of  the 
stage,  slightly  elevated  and  containing  seats  overlook 
ing  the  stage,  is  an  arbor.  Some  of  the  stone  or 
moss-covered  steps  leading  up  to  this  can  be  used  as 
seats.  Around  and  behind  the  arbor  are  other  steps 
leading  upward.  Entrances,  used  in  this  scene: 
Right  and  Left  Third  and  Upper  ;  and  Back  Center, 
behind  the  arbor,  and  reached  by  passing  upward 
either  through  it  or  around  it. 

From  the  moment  that  the  stage  is  darkened, 
and  while  it  is  gradually  being  illumined 
again,  the  following  is  chanted  by  a  choir, 
either  invisible  to  the  audience,  or,  clothed 
in  white,  and  half  seen  at  the  rear  of  the 
stage  : 

Oh,  who  has  known  the  whole  of  light, 

That  knows  it  day  by  day, 
Where  suns  that  make  the  morning  bright, 

At  evening,  pass  away  ? 


CECIL    THE  SEER,  369 

Before  the  day,  beyond  the  day, 

Above  the  suns  that  roll, 
There  was  a  light,  there  waits  a  light 

That  never  leaves  the  soul. 

Oh,  who  has  weighed  the  worth  of  light, 

That  gauged  it  by  the  gleam 
That  came  within  the  range  of  sight 

And  thought  the  rest  a  dream  ? 
Before  that  sight,  beyond  that  sight 

And  all  that  mortals  deem, 
There  was  a  light,  there  waits  a  light, 

Where  things  are  all  they  seem. 

Once  or  twice  toward  the  close  of  the  singing, 
CECIL  sits  up  in  the  bed  in  a  bewildered 
way,  passing  his  hand  over  his  forehead. 
As  the  last  strains  die  away,  he  stands 
on  the  floor,  leaving  an  exact  effigy  of  him 
self  lying  on  the  bed  behind  him.  He  now 
appears  clothed  in  white  with  knee  breeches. 
As  he  begins  to  gaze  wonderingly  about 
him, 

Enter — Left    Third   Entrance — CECILIA,    an 
idealized  form  0/"CELiA,  clothed  also   in 
white,     Grecian    style.     CECIL    does    not 
see  her  till  after  she  has  spoken. 
CECIL.     Ah,  where  am  I  ? 
CECILIA.  With  me. 

CECIL     (looking  at  her  in  astonishment,  yet  shrinking 
from  her  as  if  in  awe). 

And  who  are  you  ? 


370  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

CECILIA.     Your  friend. 
CECIL     (drawing  nearer  her}. 

My  friend  ? 

CECILIA.  Do  I  seem  else  ? 

CECIL     (with  pleased  bewilderment). 

Nay,  nay 

You  seem  it  all :  you  seem  far  more  than  this  ; 

Yet  where — when — was  it,  that  I  knew  you  so  ? 

CECILIA.     You  knew  me  so  ? — You  think  you  knew 

me,  then  ? 
CECIL.     Yes,  knew  you  ;  and  I  know  you  ;  yet  seem 

not 

To  know  where,  when  or  how  I  learned  of  you. 
(CECIL  gazes  around,  then  looking  back  at  the 
bed  that  he  has  left,  he  suddenly  starts  upon 
seeing' there  the  effigy  of  himself ".) 
What  ?  what  ? — Is  that  my  body  ?— Am  I  dead  ? 
CECILIA.     You  seem  to  be  alive. 
CECIL.  If  feeling  be 

The  test  of  life,  I  do  live. — And  yet  that — 
(returning  toward  the  bed  and  looking  at  the  effigy?) 

That  is  my  body. 

CECILIA     (meeting  him  as  he  turns  about,  and  pointing 
to  his  own  form]. 

Nay,  but  look  you  here. — 

86  why,  when  you  speak,  your  voice  the  echo  seems. 
Of  some  familiar  strain,  with  which  all  sounds 
That  ever  I  thought  sweet  were  in  accord. 
And  when  my  dimmed  eyes  dare  to  face  your  own, 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  371 

What  then  is  this  ? 
CECIL     {placing  his  hand  on  his  chest). 

This  ? — Oh,  so  light,  so  free, 

It  seems  an  essence  framed  of  flutterings, 

Ethereal  as  the  trillings  that  a  lark 

Leaves  up  in  heaven  when  it  has  left  for  earth. — 

And  you  call  this  a  body  ? 
CECILIA.  That  one  there, 

(pointing  toward  the  bed.) 

Holds  not  your  thought  ? 

CECIL.  Nay,  it  has  flown  to  you. 

CECILIA.     And  wherefore,  think  you,  has  it  flown  to 

me  ? 
CECIL.     I  do  not  know.     I  half  believe  my  soul 

Has  all  my  life  been  flying  thus  to  you.38 
(looking  around.) 

But  what  a  world  you  live  in  ! — Golden  skies  ? — • 

Is  it  the  sunset  ? 

CECILIA.  Nay  ;  you  see  no  sun. 

CECIL.     Is  it  the  Indian  Summer  ? 
CECILIA.  Nay ;  you  see 

The  air  is  far  too  clear. 
CECIL.  Is  there  a  breeze  ? — 

I  feel  it  fan  me. 


Each  seems  a  sky  within  which  is  inframed 
A  world  that  holds  my  lifetime  ;  and  the  light 
Beams  like  a  sun  there,  scattering  doubt  and 
gloom. 


372 


CECIL    THE  SEER. 


CECILIA.  Yet  the  leaves  move  not. 

CECIL.    Why,  every  leaf  glows  fairer  than  a  flower  I— 
It  must  be  autumn. 
CECILIA     {plucking  a  leaf,  and  handing  it  to  him). 

Nay  ;  these  leaves  are  fresh. 
CECIL.     I    think  I    dream : — all    things  appear    so 

strange 
Yet  doubt  I  dream  : — they  all  appear  so  clear. 


87  No — yet,  yes. 

I  dimly  can  recall  what  now  appears 
A  troubled,  stormy  sea,  yet  not  a  sea  ; 
And  in  the  depth  that  which  I  call  myself 
Seemed  held  and  heaved  as  in  some  diving  bell. 
But  evermore  in  reveries  and  dreams, 
But  most  in  dreams  when  outward  sense  would 

sleep 

My  soul  would  be  released,  and  rise  and  reach 
Fresh  air,  in  which  was  breathed  what  gave  fresh 

life; 

Then,  sinking  downward,  wake  and  work  again, 
Till  time  for  rest  and  fresh  refreshment  came. 
But  never  could  my  powers  at  work  below 
Remember  aught  that  blest  them  when  above. 
CECILIA.     And  now  you  dream  that  somehow   they 

carne  here  ? 

CECIL.     Oh,  do  not  tell  me  that  I  now  but  dream  ! — 
Nay,  call  it  heaven. — Or  is  the  rest  of  sleep 
But  absence  from  the  body  while  we  draw 
New  drafts  of  life  from  that  which  gave  us  life  ? 
CECILIA.     What  do  you  think  ? 


CECIL   THE  SEER  373 

CECILIA  (sitting  on  one  of  the  lower  steps,  leading  up 

from  the  stage  t    the  crbor}. 
Does  nothing  seem  familiar  ? 

CECIL  (sitting,  in  a  half  kneeling  position,  on  a  step  be 
side  CECILIA,  but  lower  than  the  one  that  she 
occupies, and  gazing  up  reverentially  toward  her}. 

No—87 
CECILIA  (pointing  toward  the  Right).     You  see 


CECIL.  I  do  not  think  at  all. 

I  only  know  I  would  that  I  were  Adam, 
And  you  were  Eve,  created  while  I  slept. 
Or  is  it  true  that  all  our  souls  create 
The  things  that  they  aspire  for  ? — And  are  you, — 
You  whom  my  very  spirit  seems  to  clasp 
And  thrill  forever  at  each  tingling  touch, 
Are  you,  indeed,  the  form  of  my  ideal  ? 
Oh,  love,  you  seem  as  if  at  one  with  God  ; 
And  yet  I  never  thought  a  God  could  be 
So  dear. 

(kneeling. ) 

There  have  been  monks  in  ecstasy 
Who  saw — or  thought  they  saw — the  Virgin.     I — 
I  could  not  credit  them.      But  now,  it  seems 

CECILIA.     You  think  that  I 

CECIL.  I  know  not  what  you  are. 

I  only  know  my  soul  had  sought  for  you  ; 
And  now  has  found  the  search  was  not  in  vain. 
Why,  and  how  is  it  that  I  know  so  well — 
How  have  you  told  me — what  you  are  to  me  ? 

CECILIA.     I  have  not  told  you  this  ;  and  He  alone 


374  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

Those  coming  ? — Let  us  watch  them  first— from 
here. 
(They  enter  the  arbor,  where,  in   view   of  the 

audience,  they  overlook  the  stage. 
Enter — Right— LOWE  and  MADAM  LOWE  in 
gray  Quaker  costumes,  resembling  in  most 


Who  formed  the  spirit  knows  the  how  and  why. 
CECIL.      Who    formed?— Why,     that    is     God.        I 
thought  me  dead. 

Yet  here,  I  see  not 

(gazing  around  and  upward.") 

CECILIA.  You  had  hoped,  at  death, 

To  pass  to  Paradise,  and  be  at  rest. 
Move  on  :  I  have  detained  you. 

(rising,  and  waving  him  off  -with  a  gesture^ 
CECIL  (rising  anxiously. ) 

I  move  on  ? — 

And  you  stay  here?— I  cannot.     There  is  not 
The  littlest  finger  of  the  littlest  nerve 
In  all  my  frame  here,  that  could  summon  power 
To  move  where  you  moved  not. 

CECILIA.  A.I,  then  your  will 

Is  mightier  than  you  deemed  i,  ?     You  can  rise 
But  when  you  wish  to  rise  ?     The  haunts  of  heaven 
Need  not  have  walls  to  keep  you  out  of  them  ? 
{Seating  herself  on   a   step    higher   than   she  occupied 

before.') 
CECIL  (sitting  beside,  but  Lelow  her}. 

Keep  out  of  them  ?— Why,  your  sweet  form  alone 
Has  brought  me  now  a  million,  million  times 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  375 

regards  those  of  CECIL  and  CECILIA. 
(Blue-gray  light  illumines  the  stage.) 
CECIL  (aside). 

They  look  like  Lowe,  the  Quaker,  and  his  wife. 
LOWE  (to  MADAM  L.). 

I  feel  so  weary,  yet  we  hoped  for  rest. 


More  than  I  ever  dreamed  that  death  could 

bring  me. 

CECILIA.     But  where  is  your  religion  ? 
CECIL.  All  was  love. — 

CECILIA.     And  not  the  Christ—  ? 
CECIL.  Why,  yes — that  which  he  was — 

For  which  he  died, — the  spirit  in  the  man, — 
In  me,  in  you. — Ah,  now  it  seems  as  if 
Each  face  I  loved  on  earth  but  imaged  yours  !— 
Why  is  it,  dear  one,  that  you  seem  to  be 
So  fully  all  things  that  they  all  could  be  ? 
And  what  love  is  it  ?— what,  the  halo  here 
That  seems  to  orb  you  in  the  sphere  of  God  ? 
CECILIA.     Had  you  seen  more  of  that,  you 

might  find  out. 
CECIL.     I  would  I  could  ! 
CECILIA  (rising^  as  does  also  CECIL). 

And  shall  I  help  you  to  it  ? 
CECIL.     I  knew  there  was  no  wish  within  my 

soul 

That  would  not  find  an  echo  in  your  own. 
Where  shall  we  go  that  we  may  find — ? 
CECILIA  (pointing  toward  the  Right). 

You  see,  etc. 


CECIL  THE  SEER. 

MADAM  L.  (to  LOWE). 

Did  I  not  walk  with  thee,  I  half  might  doubt 

The  leading  of  this  path. 
LOWE.  I  doubt  it  not, 

When  leading  thee. — Who  ever  saw  thee  decked 

In  vain  attire  ? 

MADAM  L.  Or  thee  not  grave  and  gray  ? 

LOWE.     Or  heard  thee  romp  ? 
MADAM  L.  Or  thee  hilarious? 

LOWE.     Or  found  thee  once  the  toy  of  giddy  fancy  ? 
MADAM  L.     Or  thee,  of  disconcerted  calculation? 
LOWE.     None    ever ! — Yet    I    fear    this    path. — I 
thought 

I  heard — and  oh,  I  dared  then  listen  twice  ! — 

I  thought  I  heard  strange  singing — 
MADAM  L.     Birds  ? — I  thought 

I  saw — and  oh,  I  dared  then  look  there  twice  ! — 

I  thought  I  saw  a  wicked,  grinning  ape. 
LOWE.     Hush,  hush  !     Think  not  of  these  things. 
Nay,  but  think 

Of  things  that  God  hath  made. — I  wonder  if 

88  And  if  the  saints  be  not  all  Friends 

MADAME  L.    Sh— sh — 

Not  that ! — so  loud  ! — I  fear  me  lest  we  doubt. 
LOWE.     To  doubt  is  charity,  where  to  believe 

Is  to  condemn.     Who  knows  but  we  could  thrive 

Deprived  of  friends — build  churches. 
MADAME  L.  Say  not  that. 

We  may  be  taken  down  yet,   where  they  use  them. 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  377 

(becoming  shrewd} 
The  holy  city  be  completely  built. 
MADAM  L.     They  might  give  thee  a  contract. 
LOWE.  Well,  they  might  !  " 

Sh  ! — What   is   that  ?     Loud   noise    and    music 

too  ! 
(BLAVER  and  Miss  PRIMWOOD  are  heard  singing} 

Oh,  up  and  spout,  and  down  and  shout, 
And  show  the  spirit  off  and  out. 

MADAM  L.     Oh,  there  may  be   a   fiend  here !     Let 

us  hide. 

Exeunt — Right  Third — LOWE  and  MADAM  L.  hur 
riedly. 

Enter — Left  Upper — BLAVER  and  Miss  PRIM- 
WOOD  in    blue  clothes   resembling  those  of 
CECIL  and  CECILIA.     Stage  is  illumined 
with  dark  blue  light. 
CECIL  (aside). 

See!  —  Blaver   and    Miss    Primwood,   I    should 
say. 

LOWE.      I  fear  me  some   may   use  them  here.     For 
look  !— 

(Part  of  the  stage  is  illuminated  ivith  red  light.) 

The  colors  on  the  leaves,  the  very  sky, 

Seem  sadly  gay. 
MADAM  L.  Oh,  do  not  look  at  them  ! 

They  glow  to  tempt  the  lusting  of  the  eye. 


378  CECIL   THE  SEEK. 

BLAVER.     We    should   have   found   the   place   ere 
this ;  or  heard 

The  blowing  of  the  trumpets,  or  the  shouts " 

No  one  has  got  the  power  here  ? 
Miss  P.  It  may  be, 

They  all  have  got  it. 

BLAVER.  What  if  that  were  so  ? — 

Suppose  they  had. — Suppose  that  no  one  here 
Could  ever  find  a  spirit  to  reform — 
Not  one   to   preach  to, — how  could  saints  here 

know 

About  one's  gifts?40 

Enter — Right  Third— stealthily,  and  dodging  behind 
trees  LOWE  and  MADAM  L. 


39  Miss  P.     Of  all  the  elders,  yes. 
BLAVER.  We  soon  shall  reach 

The     place     '  *  where     congregations     ne'er    break 

up."— 

Oh,  I  could  talk  forever  ! 
Miss  P.  So  could  I  !— 

Yet, — do  you  know  ? — if  I  were  not  with  you, 
I  half  should  tremble,  lest  my  feet  were  near 

The  silence  of  the 

BLAVER  (in  a  frightened  "way). 

Do  not  speak  of  that ! 

Keep     talking. — Oh     too     true  ! — there     are     no 
shouts. 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  379 

Miss  P.  (pointing  toward  the  Right). 

Yes,  yes,  but  who  are  they  ? 

So  still,  so  backward,  skulking  through  the  shade  ? 
BLAVER.     So  backward  and  so  still ! — are  both 

bad  signs.41 
Miss  P.  (clinging  to  BLAVER'S  arm). 

How  wise  that  I  did  learn  to  be  a  woman, 

And  cling  to  man !     Ah,  were  I  here  alone 

BLAVER.         Those  two    seem   slipping  just   like 

drunken  sneaks 

Evading  prohibition  laws. — I  have  it : 
Heaven   calls   me   to   my   mission.      See   them 
quail 


40  Miss  P.  (agitated). 

Yes,  yes  ;  but  keep  on  talking, 
To  be  with  one  who  talks  on,  makes  one  sure 
The  silence  is  not  near. 

BLAVER.  Yes,  let  us  talk. 

Perhaps,  at  times,  to  change  a  tune  or  text, 
The  congregation  pauses  ;  and  may  hear, 
And  send  the  sexton  for  us. 

V 

41  Miss  P.      Though  this  were  Paradise,  there  might 

be  here 

Another  serpent. 
BLAVER.  Or  those  like  him  !— Would 

Be  backward  too,  and  not  stand  up  for  aught. 
Miss  P.     Would  slip  away. 
BLAVER.  Be  still  in  doing  it. 


380  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

When  I  exhort  them  !  "— Ho  !  hoho  !  hoho  ! 
(B LAYER  is  gesturing  toward  the  Right  Third  En 
trance^ 

Enter — Right  Upper  Entrance — FATHER  HY- 
CHER,  in  a  long  red  cassock,  and  WIDOW 
HYCHER,  in  a  red  gown  resembling  a  cas 
sock.  The  stage  is  suddenly  illumined  with 
red  light. 
FATHER  H.  (to  BLAVER). 

Hold,  preaching  fiend  !     How  dare  you  block  my 

path 

And  raise  that  impious  and  schismatic  shout? 
Down  on  your  knees. 


48  What  is  more  religious 

Than  ministering  discomfort  ?     Rile  folks  up, 

Their  dregs  appear;  they  see  their  own  foul 

depths. 
You  watch  them  now. — Hoho  !  hoho  !  hoho !  etc. 

43  MADAM  LOWE.  Vain  souls, 

Trained  on  the  earth  to  influence  men  through 

force, 

In  realms  where  spirits  have  not  forms  that  force 
Can  harm,  must  find  their  occupation  gone. 

CECIL  (aside,  as  he  looks  at  the  HYCHERS). 

Father  and  Widow  Hycher,  or  their  doubles  ! — 
The  Quaker  dame  has  not  forgot  her  training. 

BLAVER  (to  Miss  P.,  looking  toward  MADAM  L.). 
Expected  to  surprise  her  ! — failed  ! — She  knows 
The  devil  is  deformed,  and  so  wears  robes. 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  381 

(then  to  LOWE  and  MADAM  LOWE,  who  appear  at 
the  Right). 

Down  on — 43 

BLAVER  (to  Miss  P.).     How  strange  that  forms 
We  meet  in  Paradise  all  seem  to  garb 
Our  worst  aversions  ! 

Exeunt — Right  Third — LOWE  and  MADAM  LOWE. 
Miss  P.  (anxiously).  Yes,  but — oh — exhort  them  ! 
BLAVER  (to  FATHER  andWivow  H.).  Hoho,  hoho! 

Who  rails  at  preaching  proves  his  need  of  it. 
WIDOW  H.     I  feel  as  if  a  storm  were  near.44 
(The  HYCHERS  disappear  behind  a  rock.) 
BLAVER  (to  Miss  P.).     Are  gone?  — 


Miss  P.     They  both  wear  like  robes  ! — Are  for  woman's 
rights  ? 

And  think  the  woman's  best  is  in  her  gown  ? 
WIDOW  H.  (to  BLAVER, pointing  to  FATHER  H.). 

He  bade  you  kneel. 
BLAVER  (to  WIDOW  H.).     Am  I  your  suitor  ? — No  ; 

Nor  his.     You  neither  suit  me. 
WIDOW  H.  (pointing  to  FATHER  H.).     It  is  time 

You  go  to 

BLAVER.  You  go  there  yourself.     Ay,  ay; 

Be  missionaries  for  me.     I  will  not 

Be  tempted  that  way  then. 

(to  Miss  P.)     How  strange  that  forms,  etc. 

44  and  yet 
Were  blowing  music  for  me. 


382  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

You  sing,  and  I  will  shout. 

(Moves  toward  Righf). 
Miss  P.  Not  that  way,  no  I 

(Both  turn  to  the  Left). 
BLAVER  and  Miss  P.  (together). 

Hoho  !  hoho !  hoho  !  hoho  ! 

We've  all  things  here  you  need  to  know. 

Exeunt — Left — BLAVER  and  Miss  PRIMWOOD. 


FATHER  H.  (to  WIDOW  H.).     Heard  in  heaven, 
Storms  blowing  from  the  mouth  of  hell  make 

music. 
BLAVER  (to  Miss  P.).     Their  colors  !  they — they  flag 

the  foe  for  me. 

Are  red  as  fire — are  fire,  perhaps  ;   if  so, 
Need  stirring  up,  and  showing — blowing  up 
And  out.     Hoho,  hoho  ! 

(The  HYCHERS  disappear  behind  a  rock.} 

Why,  they  are  gone  ? — 
You  sing — etc. 

46  Nor  sheepfold,  not  a  single  hedge,  forsooth, 
In  which  to  drive  a  single  soul ! 

WIDOW  H.  Like  that — 

Where  all  were  kept  so  safe — no  schism  there  ? — 
The  walls  were  always  echoing  back  the  words 
You  spoke  ;  and  no  one  else  was  let  to  speak. 

FATHER  H.     All  heard  what  they  believed. 

WIDOW  H.  Could  they  do  else 

Than  to  believe  what  they  were  always  hearing  ? — 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  383 

(Reappear  at  the  Right,  FATHER  HYCHER  and  WIDOW 

HYCHER). 
WIDOW  H.     If  I  were   not  with   you,  I  half   might 

fear 

That  we  had  wholly  missed  the  narrow  path, 
But  with  my  shepherd  near  me,  all  is  well. 
FATHER  H.     How  strange  that  I  have  found  not 

yet  a  flock.46 

WIDOW  H.     You   promise  not  to  leave    me  ;  for, 
you  know, 


Dear  words,  how  we  must  thank  them  for  our 

faith  ! 
FATHER  H.     Without  our  words  men  might  be  left 

with  nature. 
WIDOW  H.     Just  think  of   that ! — And  where  would 

nature  bear  them  ? 

FATHER  H.     Off  from  the  church,  I  fear. 
WIDOW  H.  Yes,  yes,  and  off — 

Off  from  the  priest. 

FATHER  H.  From  God,  as  well  ? 

WIDOW  H.  I  fear — 

For  he  is  so  unnatural. 
FATHER  H.  You  mean 

Is  supernatural. 
WIDOW  H.  Mysterious  ! — 

Creates  our  reason,  yet  condemns  its  use. 

I  never  used  my  reason — did  not  dare. 
FATHER  H.     You  were  a  modest,  model  woman,  yes. 
WIDOW  H.     And  you  a  model  man — no  monk  with 
me; 


384  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

I  never  learned  the  language  of  the  spirit; 
And  might  not  know  it,  were  you  not  beside  me. 

FATHER  H.     I — yes — but  if 

WIDOW  H.  There  was  no  {/"in  what 

You  used  to  say. 
Exeunt — Left — FATHER  HYCHER  and  WIDOW   HY- 

CHER. 

(The  red  light  changes  to  golden,   and  CECIL 
and  CECILIA   come  out  from  the  arbor, 


Yet  ever  showed  the  world  a  pious  face. 
FATHER  H.     I    did.     They  lied  who  said  I  did  not 
care 

For  truth.     How  oft,  for  it,  I  held  my  tongue  ! 
WIDOW  H.     And  so  held  on  to  truth — 
FATHER  H.  And  kept  it  sacred. 

WIDOW  H.     And  easy  too  for  us,  who  need  not  find  it. 

For  my  part,  I  would  rather  have  no  truth 

Than  risk  damnation,  planning  how  to  use  it. 

How  kind  the  priest  to  do  our  thinking  for  us, 

And  make  us,  though  not  thinking,  think  just 

right ! 

FATHER  H.     But  you  did  thinking — when  I  thought— 
WIDOW  H.  Of  course, 

When  you  thought  for  me. — Is  that  what  you  mean  ? 

And  now,  and  here,  too,  you  will  think  for  me. 
FATHER  H.     Could  I  do  else  ? 
WIDOW  H.  And  when  we  reach  the  gates, 

You  promise,  etc. 

46  CECIL.     Pray  tell  me  who  they  were.     They  seemed 
so  near, 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  385 

and,  while  speaking,  gradually  descend  to 
the  stage.} 

CECIL.  They  did  not  see  us. 

CECILIA.  No 

For  they  did  not  look  up. 

CECIL.  I  know,  but  why  ? — 

Where  all  things   round  them  were  so  new  and 

strange  ? 

CECILIA.     The  spirit  is  the  slave  of  its  desire. 
They  did  not  care  to  look  above  themselves.48 


And  yet  so  many  million  miles  away. 

They  looked  like  people,  too,  whom  once  I  knew  ; 

Yet  moved  like  cuckoos  jointed  on  a  clock, 

Accenting  nothing  they  have  thought  themselves, 

Or  have  the  force  to  make  another  think. 
CECILIA.     They  seemed  as  if  lost  souls. 
CECIL  (startled). 

Lost  souls,  you  say? 

CECILIA.     Did  you  not  note  them — how  they  wandered 
on  ; 

Nor  knew  their  destination  ? 

CECIL.  Heaven  forbid ' 

CECILIA.     Why  pray  for  this  ? — You  think  that  force 
rules  here, — 

That  spirits  are  not  free  to  wander  where 

Their  own  ideals  bear  them  ? 
CECIL.  Those  they  formed 

On  earth  you  mean  ? 
CECILIA.  Where  else  could  they  be  formed  ? 


386  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

Enter — Left — FREEMAN  and  FAITH,  dressed  like 
CECIL  and  CECILIA. 

FREEMAN  (advancing,  speaking  to  the  two,  and  point 
ing  toward  the  Right  Rear). 
Does  this  path  lead  us  upward  ? 
CECILIA.  Yes,  it  does. 


CECIL.     And  whither,  think  you,  will  ideals  bear 
Those  whom  we  just  have  seen  ? 

CECILIA.  Where  would  you  deem 

These  could  be  realized — save  on  the  earth  ? 

CECIL.     But  some  of  them  seemed  looking  for  their 
Christ. 

CECILIA.     I  fear  those  looking  only  for  their  Christ 
May  sometimes  fail  to  find  the  Christ  of  God. 

CECIL.     But  will  they  never  find  Him  ? 

CECILIA.  Do  you  think 

That  those  in  search  but  for  a  false  ideal, 
Could  recognize  Him,  even  should  they  find  Him? 

CECIL.     Is  not  the  Christ  of  God  in  all  the  churches  ? 

CECILIA.     Is  he  not  preached  through  men  ? 

CECIL.  And  are  not  men 

Controlled  ? — inspired  ? 

CECILIA.  And,  if  so,  from  what  source  ? 

Are  there  no  spirits  in  the  line  between 
Divinity  and  man  ? — And  what  of  man, — 
This  urn  of  earth  in  which  the  true  seed  falls  ? — 
There  was  an  Arab  in  Mohammed's  time  ; 
In  Joan  of  Arc's,  there  was  a  maid  of  France. 

CECIL.     But  would  you  grant  their  claim  ? 

CECILIA.  Some  keen  as  you 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  387 

FREEMAN  (looking  at  CECIL,  and  speaking  to  him). 
Why,  why,  friend,  is  this  you  ? 
(to  CECILIA.) 

And  Celia  too  ?— 

CECILIA.     Your  friends,  at  least,  whoever  we  may 
be. 


Believed  it  true.     And  is  it  charity 

To  deem  them  dupes  ? 
CECIL.  But  one  must  rate  them  thus, 

Or  call  upon  their  prophets. 
CECILIA.  Think  you  so  ? 

One  hears  of  gypsies  telling  what  comes  true. 

Does  this  truth  prove  them  seers  of  all  the  truth  ? 

Believe  not  every  spirit ;  prove 

CECIL.  But  how  ? 

CECILIA.     How  but  by  what  is  told,  and  character 

Of  him  who  tells  it  ?     To  the  true  soul,  truth 

Appeals  to  taste,  as  beauty  to  the  sense  ; 

Its  test  is  quality.     The  truth  of  Christ 

Is   proved  by   traits   of  Christ.       The  like   comes 
from  like. 

Their  inspiration  is  the  nearest  God 

Whose  lives  and  loves  are  nearest  Him. 
CECIL.  May  those 

Not  near  Him  be  inspired  too  ? 
CECILIA.  Why  may  not 

Some  lower  phase  of  spirit-power,  earth-borne 

To  live  for  matter  only,  still  intent 

To  live  for  matter,  take  abode  in  them, 

And  work  its  will  upon  their  willing  souls  ? 


388  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

(CECIL  and  CECILIA  shake  hands  with  FREEMAN  and 
FAITH.) 

CECIL  (to  FREEMAN). 

And  Freeman — you  with  Faith? — I  join  your  joy. 
Why,  it  fulfills  my  dream  for  you. 

FREEMAN.  And  mine  ! 

(to  FAITH,  and  gesturing  toward  their  surroundings^} 
How   much,  with  each   new   step,  th'   horizon 
widens!47 

FAITH  (to  CECILIA,  while  FREEMAN  turns  to  CECIL). 
So  strange  it  is  how  much  more  wide  and  wise 
His  views  are  here,  than  are  the  views  of  those 
Who  on  the  earth  appeared  so  much  more  learned! 

CECILIA.    Not  strange  ! — Though  spirit-life  be  lived 
in  thought, 


Why  differs  it,  though  they  may  rise  on  earth 

Impelled  through  emulation  to  enforce 

Their  wills  on  others  ;  or  through  appetite 

May  fall,  and  yield  control  of  reason's  reins 

To  that  which  drives  them  on  to  lust  and  crime  ? — 

A  spirit  that  inspires  through  selfishness 

To  mean  success  or  failure,  equally 

May  vex  as  by  a  devil  made  incarnate 

Oneself  and  all  about  him. 

CECIL.  Poor  weak  man  ! 

CECILIA.        Weak     ever — save    when     conscious    of 
his  need. 

4T  FAITH.     How  could  one  bide  below  ! 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  389 

Where   thought   pervades   the   atmosphere   like 

air, 

What  can  its  measure  be,  for  any  mind, 
Save  that  mind's  receptivity?     If  so, 
When  freed  from  bounds  conditioning  human 

thought, 

It  is  a  mind  not  filled  so  much  as  open, 
Where  waits  not  bigotry  but  charity, 
Although  with  little  learning,  that  first  thrills 
To  tides  that  flow  from  infinite  resources. 
FREEMAN  (who  has  turned  to  listen  to  the  latter  part 

of  what  she  has  been  saying). 
Is  this  a  revelation? 
CECILIA.  Ay,  to  those 

Who  heed  the  truth  behind  the  words  I  use; 
And  yet  for  those  who  heed  this  truth  themselves 
I  do  not  need  to  term  it  revelation. 


FREEMAN  (thoughtfully,  and  pointing  toward  the  Left). 

Ask  Father  Hycher. 

FAITH.     And  he — he  was  a  good  and  learned  man  ! 

FREEMAN.     Less  good  than  learned,  darling.      Your 

pure  soul 

Breathed  such  an  atmosphere  about  itself, 
Your  very  presence  could  impart  an  air 
Of  sacredness  to  all  brought  near  to  you. 

FAITH.     Well,  now  the  father  interests  me  not ; 
Nor  she  that  held  the  place  of  mother  to  me. 

FREEMAN  (pointing  upward) 

Those  interest  us  now  who  call  us  upward. 


3QO  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

FREEMAN.     We   soon,    I   hope,    can    test   it   for 

ourselves. 

Farewell,  kind  friends,  until  we  meet  above. 
(FREEMAN  and  FAITH  shake  hands   with  CECIL  and 

CECILIA). 

CECILIA.     Farewell. 
CECIL.  Farewell. 

(FREEMAN  and 'F 'AITH pass  upward  through,  or  around 

the  arbor,  till,  finally  they  disappear?) 
Exeunt — Back  Center — FREEMAN  and  FAITH. 
CECIL  (looking  at  them  as  they  ascend). 
Oh,  happy,  blessed  pair  ! 

(The following  is  then  chanted  by  the  choir, 
either  invisible,  or  visible  at  the  rear  of  the 
stage.  During  the  singing,  CECILIA  and 
CECIL  gradually  ascend  to  the  arbor  where 
both  sit. 

Two  springs  of  life, — in  air  and  earth ; 

Two  tides, — in  soul  and  sod ; 
Two  natures, — wrought  of  breath  and  birth ; 

Two  aims, — in  cloud  and  clod ; — 
Oh,  where  were  worlds,  or  where  were  worth 

Without  the  two,  and  God  ? 

Two  movements  in  the  heaving  breast, 

Two,  in  the  beating  heart ; 
Two,  in  the  swaying  soldier's  crest; 

Two,  in  the  strokes  of  art ; — 
Oh  where  in  aught  of  mortal  quest, 

Are  e'er  the  two  apart  ? 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  391 

Two  times  of  day, — in  gloom  and  glow ; 

Two  realms — of  dream  and  deed  ; 
Two  seasons — bringing  sod  and  snow  ; 

Two  states — of  fleshed  and  freed  ; — 
Oh  where  is  it  that  life  would  go, 

But  through  the  two  they  lead  ? 

Two  frames  that  meet, — the  strong,  the  fair, 

True  love  in  both  begun  ; 
Two  souls  that  form  a  single  pair ; 

Two  courses  both  have  run  ; — 
Oh  where  is  life  in  earth  or  air, 

And  not  with  these  at  one  ? 


CECIL  (pointing  in  the  direction  taken  by  FREEMAN 

and  FAITH). 
And  now  they  rest  ? 

CECILIA.  Why  not  ?     What  now  remains 

Of  an  ideal  to  bear  them  back  to  earth  ? — 
Or  what  to  learn  from  mortals  ? 
CECIL.  Learn  from  mortals  ?  " 

CECILIA.     Why  should  not  all  in  heaven  or  earth 
be  helped 


48  Can  mortals  aid  immortals  ? 

CECILIA.  Life  is  one. 

Our  daily  deeds  bring  sweeter  dreams  at  night  ; 

And  sweeter  dreams  more  strength  for  daily  deeds. 

If   thought  may  pass  from    sphere  to  sphere,  why 
not 

The  benefit  of  thought  ? 


392  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

By  all  with  whom  in  spirit  they  are  one  ? 
Were  you  on  earth,  the  while  your  soul  aspired, 
Could  mine  not  move  up  with  you?     What  you 

learned, 

Could  it  not  ever  be  a  part  of  me  ? 
CECIL.     Why,    this   is   that   for  which    I   so   have 

longed  ! 

And  once  with  one  I  thought  that  I  had  found  it. 
Ah,  can  it  be  the  halo  crowning  her, 
Was  your  sweet  face  behind  the  face  I  saw  ? — 
Yet — were  it  right  to  turn  from  her  to  you  ? 
CECILIA.     All  ties  are  right  that  make  true  life  more 

bright. 
Think  you  that  she  had  not  her  own  ideal  ? 

(gesturing  toward  the  Right?) 
And  were  her  soul  but  free  to  pass  to  it, 


CECIL.  Why,   this  were  strange  ! 

CECILIA.     If  strangeness  were  a  test  of  what  is  false, 

Few  things  would  be  believed  that  were  not  true. 
CECIL.     But  high  and  heavenly  spirits  helped  by 
human  ? 

49  MADAM  C.  (in  abject  fear}. 

Oh,  oh,  oh, 
Speak    not    of    that  !       It     all     is     paid.        Have 

faith. 
KRAFT  (doubtingly). 

Yet  some  would  talk  of  proving  faith  by  works. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  393 

Do  you  imagine  she  would  pass  to  you  ? 
CECIL  (looking  toward  the  Right}. 

My  wife    with    Kraft  ? — How    can    it   be  ? — and 

yet 

(The  stage  is  suddenly  illumined  with  brown  light.) 

Enter — Left — Right  —  KRAFT    and  MADAM 
CECIL,    dressed    in   dark   brown  clothes , 
shaped  like  those  of  CECIL  and  CELIA. 
MADAM  CECIL  (to  KRAFT).     It  matters  not  what  we 

have  done.     Have  faith. 

KRAFT  (to  MADAM  CECIL  with  suppressed  fear). 
But  should  I  meet  my  wife  whose  will  I  broke. 

And  slaves  were  not  set  free 

MADAM  C.  Have  faith,  have  faith  ! 

KRAFT.     Or  should  we  two  meet  Cecil 4fl 

MADAM  C.  (shuddering). 

Oh,  oh,  oh, 


MADAM    C.        I    joined    the    church  when   scarcely 

sweet  sixteen, 

And  never  danced,  except  away  from  home. 
KRAFT.      And  I,  when  I  was  twenty  ;  and  I  never 

Let  people  see  me  backslide. 
MADAM  C.  And  I  always 

Appeared  to  take  an  interest  in  the  meetings. 
KRAFT.       And    I    would    often    head    subscription 

lists 

With  more   than  one  could  pay,    when   they  were 
due. 


394  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

Not  him  !  not  him  ! 

(recovering  herself  suddenly?) 

He  never  can  come  here. 
KRAFT  (eagerly). 

You  think  so — eh  ?— Why  not  ? 
MADAM  C.  (sententious  ly}. 

He  lost  his  faith. 
KRAFT  (with  cringing  hope). 

Is  that  so  ? — Yes  ? — but  how  ? 
MADAM  C.  Why,  just  because 

Our  pastor  said,  one  time,  of  slavery, 
The  institution  was  divine,  God's  own, 
He  never  after  set  foot  in  that  church.50 

(CECILIA,  beckoning  to  CECIL  who  follows  her, 


MADAM  C.     Yes,  we  were  both  consistent  and  dis 
creet. 
KRAFT.     But  yet,  should  we  meet  Cecil 

50  KRAFT  (with  self-congratulatory  delight}. 

Oh,  is  that  so  ! 
MADAM  C.  Besides,  he  sometimes  owned 

To  other 

KRAFT.  Other  what  ? 

MADAM  C.  Misgivings. 

KRAFT  (with  assumed  horror). 

Not 

Believe  in  things  men  preached  ? 
MADAM  C.  (sanctimoniously). 

He  doubted  them. 
KRAFT  (decisively}.     Then  he  did  not  have  faith. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  395 

comes  from  the  arbor,  and  moves  toward 
KRAFT  and  MADAM  C.,  who,  being  at  the 
front  of  the  stage  facing  the  audience,  do 
not  see  them.) 
KRAFT  (in  self-congratulatory  way). 

Your  husband  then  had  really  lost  his  faith  ? 
I  wonder  if  my  wife  had  not  lost  hers. 
MADAM  C.     Did   she  not    free    her  slaves  ? — Our 

pastor  said 

The  institution  was  divine. 
KRAFT  (deliberatingly). 

Yes,  yes. 

MADAM  C.     She  did  not  think  it  so. 
KRAFT.  No,  she  did  not. 

But  I,  I  did,  you  see.     I  broke  her  will. 
MADAM  C.     Precisely  1 


MADAM  C.  No  ;  he  did  not. 

KRAFT.     I  learned  the  catechism  in  my  youth  ; 

And  always  said,  when  asked,  that  it  was  true. 
MADAM   C.       Thank   God   for    that!      He  was  not 

trained  as  you  were. 
KRAFT.     You  know  I  would  not  let  an  ignorant  man, 

A  slave  or  poor  white,  meet  me  in  my  parlor. 
MADAM  C.    No  ;  never  ! 
KRAFT.  When  a  man  is  ignorant 

About  the  doctrines — doubts  them, — how  can  he 

Expect  that  God  will  welcome  him  ? 
MADAM  C.  Just  so  ! 

We  never  have  a  God  we  understand 

Until  we  learn  to  judge  Him  by  ourselves. 


396  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

KRAFT.  Yes. 

MADAM  C.  And  saved  her. — 

KRAFT.  What  ?— Oh,  yes  !— 

Saved  her  from  the  results 

CECILIA  (to  KRAFT  and  MADAM  C.,  as  she  points  to 
CECIL). 

What  sophistry 
Is  this  ? 

MADAM  C.  (falling  on  her  knees  before  CECIL,  in 
abject  fear). 

Oh,  Master,  did  I  not  have  faith  ? 
KRAFT  (also  falling  on  his  knees  before  CECIL). 

Did  I  not  often  say  "  Good  Lord  "  in  prayer  ?  " 
CECIL  (to  CECILIA). 
Are  they  insane  ? 

61  MADAM  C.      Did  I  not  do  my  best  to  show  myself 

In  church  ? 

KRAFT.  Did  I  not  make  professions  there  ? 

MADAM  C.     Did  I  not  bear  my  cross  ?— 
KRAFT.  A  diamond  cross 

I  gave  her  ? — 
MADAM  C.     I  embroidered  one.     I  showed 

My  faith  by  works. 
KRAFT.  I,  in  my  business, — 

Oh,   how  my  slaves  would  work   at   those   church 
fairs  ! 

52  What  is  it  you  fear  ? 
KRAFT.  Oh,  Master  1 
MADAM  C.  Master ! 


CECIL    THE    SEER.  397 

CECILIA.  In  part. 

CECIL.  Heard  you  the  name 

They  called  us. 
CECILIA.  His  who  said  that  "  Inasmuch 

As  ye  have  done  it  to  the  least  of  these, 

My  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me." 
MADAM  C.     Oh,  Master,  wherefore  are  we  here  ? 
CECIL  (to  CECILIA). 

Where  do 

They  think  themselves  ? 
CECILIA.  Where  false  and  hellish  moods 

Create  a  false  and  hellish  world  to  live  in. 
CECIL  (to  KRAFT  and  MADAM  C.). 

What  seems  the  trouble  ? " 

(to  CECILIA). 

Tell  me  what  to  say. 


CECIL.  Why  do  you  say  that  ? 

MADAM  C.     You  are  so  holy,  and  we  are  so  base. 
KRAFT.     Oh,  wherefore  did  I  kill  you  ? 
MADAM  C.  Wherefore,  oh, 

Oh,  wherefore  did  I  load  you  with  abuse  ? — 

I  did  not  know  you  then. 
CECIL.  Nor  know  me  now. 

Am  I  your  master  ? 

KRAFT.  It  was  you  we  harmed. 

CECIL.     What  would  you  that  I  do  for  you  ? 
MADAM  C.  Oh  let 

Us  pay  it  back. 
KRAFT.  Yes,  let  us  pay  it  back. 


398  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

And  is  there  nothing  one  can  do  for  them 
To  free  them  from  their  misery  ? 
CECILIA.  They  say 

There  is,  and  truly.     Though  the  Lord  forgive. 
In  spirit  how  can  spirits  feel  forgiven 
Ere  they  undo  the  wrong  their  lives  have  wrought  ? 
Ere  this  had  been  undone,  not  even  laws 
Of  Moses  let  the  trespasser  receive 
The  benefit  of  sacrifice  ;  and  how 
Could  heavenly  joys  crown  even  perfect  love 
Save  as  it  served  the  soul  it  once  had  harmed  ? 
CECIL  (to  MADAM  C.  and  KRAFT). 

What  is  it,  then,  that  you  would  do  for  me  ? 
KRAFT.     What   you   had  done,  had  we  not  stayed 

your  work. 
CECIL  (to  CECILIA). 

What  ? — Is  it  possible  ? — my  plans,  my  hopes 
Can  be  fulfilled  yet  ?  and  fulfilled  through  these  ? — 

(to  KRAFT  and  MADAM  C.) 

Well,  it  may  be  so.     You  may  serve  your  time.53 
CECILIA.     But  prove  your  faith  by  your  fidelity. 

(CECILIA  points  toward  the  Right  Third  En 
trance.  As  she  does  so,  Enter — Right 
Upper  Entrance — JEM  and MILLY.  Their 

CECILIA.     Pay  what  back?    What  ?— You  said,  "It 

all  is  paid. 
Have   faith.  "      Your  faith   means   faith   that   God 

forgives. 
If  he  forgive  you,  why  not  feel  forgiven  ? 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  399 

dresses  are  of  a  grayer  shade,  but  other 
wise  they  resemble  those  of  CECIL  and  CE 
CILIA.  As  KRAFT  and  MADAM  C.  turn 
toward  the  Right  Third  Entrance,  they 
see  JEM  and  MILLY.  Both  start  back 
affrighted.) 
MADAM  C.  See  those  grim  messengers  of  torture 

coming ! 
CECIL  (to  CECILIA). 

Why,  those  are  Jem  and  Milly,  our  old  slaves ! 
She  tried  to  thwart  me,  when  I  set  them  free. 
CECILIA.     She  thinks  them  fiends. 
CECIL.  How  blind  !     Their  dusky  hues 

To  me  seem  fair-formed  shadows  cast  before 
The  love  of  coming  angels. 

(CECILIA  and  CECIL,  at  her  apparent  bidding, 

seat  themselves  again  on  some  of  the  steps 

leading  up  to  the  arbor,  and  from  there 

listen  to  the  following?) 

MADAM  C.  (to  JEM  and  MILLY,  kneeling  before  them). 

Spare  my  soul ! 

JEM.     A  little  thing  ter  spare  ! — I  'spects  I  will. 
MADAM  C.     You  will  not  drive  me  off  to  torment 
then? 

MADAM  C.     You  mock  us. 
KRAFT.  Mock  us. 

58  MADAM  C.     Ah,  now  I  know,  indeed,  that  Heaven 

is  true  ! 
KRAFT.     And  now  I  know,  indeed,  the  Lord  forgives  ! 


4OO  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

JEM.     Come,  come,  ole  missus,  yer  mixed  up  on 
dis. 

De  debil  not  so  black  as  he  am  painted. 

He's  white, — a  missus  too  !     When  yer  gets  dah 
{pointing  down), 

Jes'  take  one  look  in  dat  ah  lake.     You'll  see  'im. 
MADAM  C.     Oh,  oh,  then  you  have  seen  him  ? 
JEM.  Wall,  I's  been 

Dun  gone  down  da  below, — a  slave,  yer  see. 

But  now,  I's  heah. 

MADAM  C.  And  I  must  be  your  slave  ? 

JEM.    No  ;  we's  not  mean  enough  ter  own  no  slaves. 

(Gesturing  toward  MILLY.) 

MADAM  C.   You  would  not  drive  us  to  the  darkness  ? 
JEM.  No. 

We's  come  away  from  dah,  or  'spected  so 

Till  we  met 

(JEM  looks  at  her  sharply?) 

MADAM  C.          Who  ?    Oh,  take  me  not 

JEM.  Fur  'im  ?— 

Law  sakes  alive  !     Yer  kneelin'. 
MADAM  C.  I  will  serve 

For  all  my  life 

64  CECILIA.     Wherever  spirits  influence  the  spirit. 
CECIL.     Ah,  then,  through  others'  lives  they  work 

their  work  ? 
CECILIA.     Perchance  they  may  ;  perchance  they 

may  do  more. 
CECIL.     Do  more  ? — What  mean  you  ? — live  again 

on  earth  ? — 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  40  1 

JEM.  De  debil  ?  —  better  not  ! 

(JEM    and    MILLY   turn    to    leave  at  Right    Third 

Entranced) 
MADAM  C.     I  must  pay   back   the   service   forced 

from  you. 

You  will  not,  cannot,  must  not  cast  me  off. 
JEM  (turning  around  toward  her). 

Dem  folks  dat's  free  perfers  ter  choose  deir  help. 
Exeunt  —  Right  Third  Entrance  —  JEM    and  MILLY, 

hurriedly. 

MADAM  C.  (to  KRAFT  who  seems  to  desire  to  linger). 
Oh,  we  must  overtake  them  ! 

(She  pulls  KRAFT  after  her.) 
Exeunt  —  Right    Third  Entrance  —  MADAM    C.    and 

KRAFT. 
(As  they  leave,  the  stage  is  again  illumined  with  golden 


CECILIA  (looking  after  them). 

Who  can  tell 

What  ages  it  may  take  to  overtake 
The  wrong  one's  own  wrong  lashes  into  flight  ! 
CECIL.     But  how  and  where  can  spirits  right  their 
wrong  ?  b* 

Nay,  if  they  shall,  they  have  lived  ;  yet  who  ever 
Met  mortal  yet  whose  memory  could  recall 
A  former  state  ? 

CECILIA.  He  might  recall  the  state 

Without  the  circumstance.     To  know,  bespeaks 
Experience.     To  be  born  with  intuitions 
And  insight,  is  to  know.     To  sun  new  growth, 


402  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

Where  are  they  going  ? 
CECILIA.  Earthward,  so  it  seems. 


Why  should  all  not  be  given  an  equal  chance 
Unshadow'd  by  dark  memories  of  the  past  ? 

CECIL.     But  if  the  past  were  bright  ? 

CECILIA.  If  wholly  so, 

Would  one  need  progress  ?  or  could  he  be  cursed 
With  deeper  woe  than  thought  that  could  recall, 
Enslaved  in  flesh,  a  former  liberty  ? 
Why  lure  to  suicide,  that,  breaking  through 
The  lines  determining  development, 
May  plunge  the  essence  down  to  deeper  depths 
There  planted  till  new  growth  take  root  anew  ? 

CECIL.     Must  all  new  growth  be  planted  in  the  earth  ? 

CECILIA.     Is  any  germ  that  grows  not  planted  there  ? 

CECIL.     What  trains  it  then  ? 

CECILIA.  Some  say  that  where  it  falls, 

In  age,  clime,  country,  family,  fleshly  form, 
The  mighty  wheels  of  matter— earth  and  moon, 
And  sun  and  planets,  all  the  unseen  stars 
Of  all  the  universe  that  round  it  roll — 
With  one  unending  whirl  grind  out  its  fate  ; 
Yet  only  earthly  fate.     Flung  to  and  fro, 
And  torn  by  care  and  toil  and  pain  and  loss, 
The  spirit  knows  in  spirit  it  is  free  ; 
And,  true  to  its  high  nature,  may  pass  through 
The  terror  of  the  ordeal  with  all 
The  finer  flour  of  nature's  grain  preserved. 

CECIL.     So  though  careers  be  fated,  souls  are  free? 

CECILIA.     The  consciousness  of  freedom  comes 
from  force 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  403 

CECIL.     And  will  she  serve  her  slaves  ? 

CECILIA.  Why  should  she  not  ? 


Which  is  of  heaven  ;  the  consciousness  of  fate 
From  that  which  is  of  earth  ;  and  both  are  true  ; 
Or  that  which  makes  all  feel  them  both  is  false. 
CECIL.     But  if  some  spirits  thus  return  to  earth, 

Why  not  all  spirits  ? 

CECILIA.  Who  has  traced  for  you 

The  history  of  spirits  ?    If  they  came 
From  God,  as  matter  came,  why  came  they 

not 

With  matter? 
CECIL.  What  ?— Through  beasts  and  birds,  you 

mean  ? 
CECILIA.     Why  not  ?— Why  should  not  these  have 

endless  life  ? 
Why,  if  they  have  it,  should  their  course  be 

checked 

Ere  they  attain  the  highest  ? — and,  if  not, 
Why  should  their  essence  not  move  up  through 

man? 

CECIL.     Is  man  the  son  of  beasts  ? 
CECILIA.  In  flesh  why  not  ? — 

But  may  be  born  of  flesh  and  of  the  Spirit. 
Devoid  of  spirit,  all  the  body's  nerves 
Are  lifeless  as  the  wires,  when  rent  apart, 
Which  once  were  thrilling  with  electric 

force. 
But  ah  !  that  force,  though  flown  to  air,  comes 

back 
To  give  new  life  wherever  new  forms  fit  it. 


404  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

Why  should  not  those  who  were  the  most  op 
pressed 

So,  while  the  whole  creation  of  the  flesh, 
In  groans  and  travails  of  successive  births, 
Prepares  each  new  formation  for  its  need, 
Why  should  not  psychic  force,  the  breath  of  Him 
In  whom  all  live  and  move  and  have  their 

being, 

With  rhythm  mightier  than  the  pulse  of  lungs, 
Or  day  and  night,  or  autumn  and  the  spring, 
Pass  up  through  all  the  lower  ranks  of  life, 
Through  birth  and  on  through  death,  from  air  to 

breath, 

From  breath  to  air,  till,  last,  it  reaches  man  ; 
And,  taught  the  lesson  there  of  human 

hands 
Which  master  matter,  and  of  each  man 

make 

A  fellow  worker  in  creation's  work, 
And,  taught  the  lesson  of  the  human  voice, 
Which  for  each  new  conception  frames  a 

word 
To  phase  and  phrase  it,  and  of  each  man 

makes 

A  fellow-thinker  in  creation's  thought, — 
Why  should  not  this  force,  moulded  by  the 

hand 

And  head,  attain  in  man  its  final  end, 
And  dowered  with  will  and  reason,  freed  at 

death 

From  its  material  framework,  hold  its  mould, 
And  reach  the  last  result  of  all  that  is, 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  405 

Have  most  that  serve  them  where  but  souls  are 
served  ? 

Where  that  which  served  the  serpent  is  th« 
son, — 

A  spirit  in  the  image  of  the  Father  ? 
CECIL.     These  words  recall  an  ancient  eastern 
dream  ; 

And,  in  one's  waking  hours,  can  it  be  true  ? 
CECILIA.     Think  you  a  true  soul  ever  served  a 
thought 

Not  souled  in  truth,  whatever  were  its 

form? 

CECIL.     But  what  then  of  the  Christ  ? 
CECILIA.  Did  He  not  say 

He  lived  in  spirit  ere  He  lived  on  earth  ? — 
CECIL.     He  said  He  came  for  others. 
CECILIA.  Do  you  think 

A  spirit  such  as  His  would  need  to  come 

For  His  own  good  ? 

CECIL.  And  yet  that  sacrifice  ? — 

CECILIA.     He  sacrificed  the  spirit-life  for  life 

On  earth,  and  life  on  earth  for  spirit-life. 
CECIL.     And  but  fulfilled  a  common  role  ? 
CECILIA.  Not  common, 

Did  He  fulfill  our  spirit's  best  ideal  ; 

For  spirits  live  in  thought.     How  can  they 
know 

Of  any  God  beyond  their  thought  of  him  ? 
CECIL.     But  if  they  know  the  Son? 
CECILIA.  They  know,  at  best, 

A  "  Son  of  Man,"  as  well,  too,  as  "of  God," — 

In  spirit  one  with  Him,  but  not  in  frame. 


406  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

All  things  inverted  and  turned  inside  out, 
The  last  in  station  may  become  the  first, 
The  lowly  lordlike  and  the  high  the  low, 
The    crown'd    the    chain'd,    the    crucified    the 
crown'd. 


CECIL.     And  yet  a  "  Saviour  " — 
CECILIA.  What  inspires,  but  spirit  ?- 

Or  saves,  but  inspiration  ?     He — enough — 
All  must  move  upward  would  they  find  the 
Christ. 

(Rising  and  pointing  upward '.) 
CECIL  (rising). 

But  ought  they  not  to  work  for  others  too  ? 
CECILIA.     In  spirit  those  work  most  for  truth,  who 

most 

Are  true  ;  for  all  are  led,  yet  all  are  leaders. 
Thus  does  the  line  of  being  bridge  the  gulf 
Between  the  world  of  worm  and  fire, — the  hell 
Forever  following  life  not  saved  on  earth, — 
And  that  eternal  rest  where  souls,  made  free 
From  longer  craving  a  material  frame 
Through  which  to  signal  their  vain  selfhood, 

lose 

Their  lower  life  to  find  a  higher  life, 
Where  now  their  spirits  are  at  one  with  His 
Whose  love  creates  but  that  it  may  bestow  ; 
And,  even  as  the  Christ  is  in  the  Father, 
So,  too,  become  joint  heirs  with  Him  of 

all  things. 

(CECILIA  and  CECIL  move  upward,  and  finally  dis 
appear.) 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  40? 

Eoceunt — Back  Center — CECILIA  and  CECIL. 
In  the  meantime,  the  following  is  chanted 
by  a  choir,  either  invisible  or  visible  at 
the  rear  of  the  stage. 

In  the  world  of  care  and  sorrow 

Cloud  and  darkness  veil  the  way, 
But  in  heaven  there  waits  a  morrow 

Where  the  night  will  turn  to  day, 
Where  the  spirit-light  in  rising, 

Yet  will  gild  the  clouds  of  fear, 
And  the  shadows,  long  disguising, 

Lift  and  leave  the  landscape  clear. 

When  the  soul,  amid  that  glory, 

Finds  its  earthly  garments  fall, 
Harm  and  anguish  end  their  story, 

Health  and  beauty  come  to  all ; 
No  more  fleshly  chains  can  fetter 

Faith  that  longs  to  soar  above ; 
None  to  duty  seems  a  debtor, 

And  the  only  law  is  love. 

There  is  ended  earthly  scheming, 

Earthly  struggle  sinks  to  sleep  ; 
Souls  have  passed  from  deed  to  dreaming, 

And  they  have  no  watch  to  keep  ; 
For  the  world  has  wrought  its  mission, 

And  the  wheels  of  labor  rest ; 
And  the  faithful  find  fruition, 

And  the  true  become  the  blest. 

(The  stage  is  darkened ;  and  the  curtain  that 
formed  the  back  of  Scene  First  in  this  Act 
falls  upon  //.) 


408  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

SCENE  THIRD.     Same  as  Scene  First  of  this  Act. 
While  the  stage  is  still  dark,  unseen  by  audience. 
Enter  —  Left    Second  Entrance  —  CECIL,    in 
dressing-gown  covering  completely  the  dress 
worn  by  him  in  the  last  scene.     He  re 
clines  on  the  bed,  as  in  the  First  Scene  of 
this  Act. 

(The stage  is  made  light.) 

Enter — Left  Second  Entrance — CELIA,  dressed 
as  in  Scene  First  of  this  Act.  In  addition, 
she  brings  a  hat  and  shawl,  which,  as  she 
becomes  visible  to  audience,  she  is  seen 
putting  on. 
CELIA  (arranging  her  hat  and  shawl}. 

The  time  has  come  to  take  my  morning  walk. 
I  almost  fear  to  leave  him ! 

Enter — Right  Second  Entrance — JEM. 
(to  JEM). 

You  will  stay 

While  I  am  gone,  and  keep  good  watch  of  him  ? 
JEM.     Yes,  don't  yer  be  afear'd. 

Exit — Left  Second  Entrance — CELIA, 
(JEM  looks  out  after  her,  then  shuts  door. ) 

I'll  watch  and  pray. 
I'll  watch  for  dem, 

{pointing  toward  Right  Second  Entranced] 

And  pray  for  dis  yeah  niggah. 
Fo'  Gawd,  dey  done  dare  hahm  de  ole  Marse  now. 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  409 

What    dey   would    hahm    would    be    de    udder 

pusson. 

(He  goes  to  Right  Second  Entrance,  and  opens  door.) 

Now  yer's  all  safe,  suh.     She  'ab  gone  away. 

Enter  —  Right    Second    Entrance — KRAFT, 

MADAM  CECIL  and  two  MEN,  all  dressed 

in  out-door  costume.     All  of  them  except 

KRAFT  cross  the  stage  toward  the  couch. 

KRAFT   remains    behind,    and,  taking  a 

bank-note  from  his  pocket-book,   says    to 

himself. 

KRAFT.     One  used  to  courts  should  understand  the 

use 
Of    what    they    term    court-plaster.       There    is 

nothing 

Can  stick  together  lips  inclined  to  peach 
Like  strong  bank-notes.     Here,  Jem. 
(JEM  moves  toward  him,  KRAFT  hands  him  the  note?) 

See  here.     Take  this, 
It  ought  to  keep  your  mouth  shut. 
JEM  (taking  money  and  pocketing  if). 

Law  now,  Marse, 
And  pocket,  too,  suh. 
KRAFT.  You  are  wise,  my  man. 

(KRAFT  crosses  to  alcove  where  MADAM  C.  and 
the  two  MEN  have  been  looking  at  CECIL. 
He  looks  at  CECIL,  and  speaks  to  them.) 
No  doubt ! — You  see  the  man  is  living  still. 
You  both  can  swear  to  that  ? 


4IO  CECIL    THE    SEER. 

FIRST  MAN.  Oh,  yes. 

SECOND  MAN.  Yes,  yes. 

KRAFT  (to  JEM). 

What  says  the  doctor,  Jem  ?     Will  he  recover  ? 
JEM.     I  'spec'  he  'spec's  it. 
KRAFT  (to  MADAM  CECIL). 

We  are  safe,  at  least. 

Has  lived  now  long  enough — for  that. 
MADAM  C.  (aside].  Yet  I 

Could  almost  pray  to  know  that  he  was  dead  ! 
CECIL  (in  bewilderment,  starting  suddenly,  and  sitting 
up  in  the  bed}. 

And  did  you  think  I  wanted  to  be  living  ? 


CURTAIN. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  411 


ACT  THIRD. 

An  interval  of  two  years  is  supposed  to  elapse  between 
the  occurrences  in  Acts  Second  and  Third. 

SCENE  FIRST  :  A  room  in  the  house  of  FREEMAN,  who 
has  married  CELIA,  and  is  living  with  her  in  a 
Northern  "  Border  "  State.  Near  the  center  of  the 
room,  set  with  dishes  for  a  meal,  is  a  table.  Bread 
and  a  pitcher  of  milk  have  already  been  placed  on  it. 
Three  or  four  chairs  are  near  the  table.  At  the 
Left  is  a  closet,  and  about  the  room  other  articles  of 
furniture.  Backing,  a  wall  containing  a  window 
or  door,  etc.  Entrances  by  doors  at  the  Right  and 
Left  near  the  Front. 

The  curtain  rising  discloses  JEM  with  overcoat  and  hat 
on,  standing  in  front  of  the  table. 

JEM  (to  himself}. 

De  station  am  a  mile  off.     Whar's  de  dahky 
Dat  wouldn't  get  hungry  'foah  he  got  dat  fah  ? 
(taking  bread  from  table  and  putting  it  in  his  pocket.) 
Dey  all  don't  want  to  see  'im  stahve  ;  not  dey ! 
An'  dry  up,  no  ! 

(taking  up  milk  pitcher,  and  looking  at  it) 

Why,  'sakes  alive  !  dah's  marse — 
And  what's  he  call  me  calf  faw  ? 


412  CECIL    THE   SEER. 

(pouring  out  a  tumbler-full  of  milk,  drinking  //, 
then  hiding  the  tumbler  in  the  closet?) 

Dat  am  good. 

Dis  dahky's  glad  dat  ole  Marse  Cecil's  comin'. 
But  ole  Marse  Cecil, — wondeh  how  he'll  take 
To  seem'  his  Miss  Celia  Missus  Freeman. 
It  'peahed  as  how  he  liked  dat  ah  young  gal, 
An'  when  ole  Missus  Cecil  she  got  out 
An'  married  dat  Marse  Kraft,  why,  me  and  Milly, 


66  Did  Faith  look  well  ? 

FREEMAN  (seating  himself  in  one  of  the  chairs, 
and  taking  a  newspaper  from  his  pocket 
and  unfolding  it.) 

Much  as  of  old  she  did. 
But  paler — that  is,  till  she  chanced  on  me, 
CELIA.     And  then  ? 
FREEMAN.  She  flushed. 

CELIA.  It  needed  but  a  spark 

To  kindle  the  old  fire. 
FREEMAN.  In  her  ?— or  me  ? — 

I  saw  no  light.     I  only  thought  of  ashes. 
CELIA.     I  know  her  nun's  veil  seemed  a  shroud  to 

you. 
FREEMAN.     Your  white  one,  Celia,  when  I  married 

you, 
Seemed  like  an  angel's.     Now  that  you  have 

dropped  it, 
I  know  it  was. 
CELIA.  I  thank  you.     Yet,  at  times, 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  413 

We  'spected  how  Marse  Cecil  'd  like  to  get 

As  fuh  de  oder  way  wid  his  Miss  Celia. — 

But  now  Marse  Freeman  's  got  her,  got  her  tight. 

Enter — Left — FREEMAN  and  CELIA,  the  latter  with 
tray  containing  more  dishes  for  table. 

FREEMAN  (to  JEM). 
It's  time  to  go,  Jem. 

JEM.  Go  ? — Fs  goin', — gone ! 

Exit— Right—  J  EM. 

CELIA  "  (arranging  the  dishes  on  the  table,  and  suspi- 


I  fear  mere  pity  led  you  to  propose. 
FREEMAN.     Was  it  your  pity  led  you  to  accept  ? 
CELIA.     You  know  you  thought  that  I  had  closed 
the  door 

To  every  other  suitor  by  my  act 

In  closing  it  on  all  except  us  two 

When  we  were  nursing  Cecil. 
FREEMAN.  And  you  know 

You  thought  that  I  had  closed  the  door  on  Faith 

Because  of  that  which  Father  Hycher  said. 

But — nonsense  ! — what  if  pity  were  a  motive? 
CELIA.     Pity  is  but  a  sadder  kind  of  love — 
FREEMAN.     No  love  at  all.     But  as  a  motive  to 
it — 

A  door  to  open, — why  complain  of  it, 

If  only  opening  where  we  wish  to  go  ? 

(CELIA,  having  ended  arranging  the  things 
on  the  table ,  stands  back  looking  at  it.) 

And  all  is  ready — is  it  ?— for  our  guest  ? 
CELIA.     To  think  that  Cecil,  etc. 


414  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

ciously  examining  the  bread-plate   and  milk- 
pitcher,  while  shaking  her  head  at  the  departing 
JEM  ;  then  standing  back,  and  looking  first  at 
the  table,  and,  after  that,  at  FREEMAN). 
To  think  that  Cecil  should  be  here,  and  well  ] 
FREEMAN.     And  such  a  note  as  his  too !     Why,  a 

boy, 

A  boy  in  love,  could  not  more  gracefully 
Let  tumble  forth  from  his  embarrassed  lips 
The  whole  sweet  contents  of  his  blushing  cheeks, 
Than  he  did,  pelting,  helter-skelter,  out 
Those  metaphors  at  us,  to  vent  his  joy 
In  welcoming  our  own  ! 

CELIA.  How  strange  he  felt  so  ! 

FREEMAN.      Strange? — I  am  worthy  of  you  ;  you  of 

me; 

And  both  of  us  of  Cecil's  interest. 
He  knows  how  we  two  nursed  him.     Now,  at  last, 
His  voyage  at  an  end,  his  health  restored, 
It  ought  to  give  him  joy,  and  pride  as  well, 
To  learn  how  we,  through  love  for  him,  at  first, 
Have  come  to  love  each  other.     Every  soul 
Is  proudest  of  the  good  itself  has  fathered. 
CELIA.     I  know  ;  and  Cecil  has  a  heart  so  kind  ! 

But  I  must  go,  and  get  the  breakfast  ready. 
FREEMAN  (taking  CELIA'S  hand). 

But,  first,  my  Celia,  let  me  break  my  fast. 

(kisses  her) 
One  kiss  of  yours  could  make  the  thrilling  lips 


CECIL  THE  SEER.  415 

Go  fluttering  all  day  long  like  Cupid's  wings 
To  bear  sweet  words  of  love  to  all  they  meet. 

Exit— Left— CKI.IK. 

(FREEMAN'S  eyes  follow  her  as  she  disappears.} 
I  told  no  lie.     She  lights  my  life  with  joy. 
But,    oh,    had   she  been   Faith,   joy  had   been 

bliss!— 

Poor  Celia,  she  shall  never  learn  the  truth. 
She  thinks  my  nature  water.     I  did  once: 
As  each  new  face  looked  love  upon  its  depths, 
I  thought  they  might  be  filled  with  that ;  but,  ah, 
My  heart  is  like  a  photographer's  glass 
Whereon  the  image  once  impressed  remains; 
And  Celia' s  face  is  always  framed  in  Faith's. 
I  fear  I  love  the  picture  for  the  frame. 
(looking  out  of  the  back  window  nearest  the  Right?) 
Why,  Cecil  here  already  ? — must  be  he — 
(FREEMAN  opens  the  door  at  the  Right?) 
Enter — Right — CECIL  followed  by  JEM.     Both 
wear  out-door   costumes,  CECIL  an  over 
coat.     He  also  carries  a  cane  and  limps. 
As  he  enters,    he  and  FREEMAN    shake 
hands. 

A  hearty  welcome,  friend  !     I  saw  you  coming. 
How  well  you  look  !     You  are  well  too,  not  so  ? 
CECIL  (removing  his  hat,  which  JEM  takes]. 

Oh,  yes. 

FREEMAN  (noticing  that  CECIL  limps). 
Lame  yet  ? — 


41 6  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

CECIL.  Shall  always  be.     One  foot 

Was  caught  inside  the  grave.     I  pulled  away ; 
But  drag  the  foot-stone. 
FREEMAN  (Jielping  CECIL  take  off  his  overcoat}. 

Not  the  head-stone  though  ! 
CECIL.     I  hope  not. 

FREEMAN  (handing   CECIL'S   overcoat  to   JEM,    who 
takes  it  in  addition  to  the  hat}. 

Here,  Jem,  take  these  out  with  you. 
(FREEMAN  turns  to  get  a  chair  for  CECIL.) 
JEM  (aside,  as  he  stands  near  the  Left  Entrance). 
I'd  like  to  see  what  ole  Marse  Cecil  '11  do 
When    he   fine    out    Miss    Celia's    Missus    Free 
man. 
I  know,  from  what  he  say,  dat  he  don't  'spec  so. 

Exit—  Right—  J  EM  . 
FREEMAN  (placing  a  chair  behind  CECIL). 

Sit  here. 

CECIL  (sitting  in  the  chair  and  looking  around  the 
room). 

I  thank  you. — What  a  pleasant  home ! 
And  have  you  heard,  of  late,  about  my  wife? 
FREEMAN.     You  knew  she  married  Kraft?     How 

mean  in  her! 

CECIL.     Oh,  no;  not  that! 
FREEMAN  {sitting  in  chair). 

But  getting  her  divorce — 
Accusing  you! 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  417 

CECIL.  Kraft  managed  it,  of  course. 

I  had  deserted  her. 

FREEMAN.  You  could  not  help  it. 

CECIL.     No ;  thanks  to  her — and  heaven  !     But  let 

that  rest. 

When  one  has  well  nigh  slept  the  sleep  of  death — 
You  know  I  thought  me  dead — it  seems  not  sad, 
On  waking,  to  begin  one's  life  anew. 
FREEMAN.     And  we  too  thought  you  dead. 
CECIL.  I  acted  so  ? 

FREEMAN.     You    acted    not  at  all.     You   did   not 

stir. 
CECIL.     No  wonder  !     Had   you  seen  what  I   saw 

then, 

Your  senses  would  have  been  as  hushed  as  mine. 
FREEMAN.     What  was  it  ? 
CECIL.  I  scarce  know — a  vision — dream — 

Perhaps  a  trance.— Wait,  till  I  tell  you  it. 
FREEMAN.     If  dreams  came  true,  a  man  might  prize 

them  more. 
CECIL.     At  times,  they  do  come  true.     Mine  will. 

The  power 

That  handles  Kraft  can  make  that  devil  spin 
Like  potter's  clay  to  work  out  his  designs. 
It  all  was  prophesied. 
FREEMAN.  Was  prophesied  ? 

CECIL.     Yes, — in  my  vision, — all   about — your  mar 
riage. 
FREEMAN.     My  marriage  ? 


41 8  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

CECIL.  Yes,  and  then  such  joy  for  me! — 

And  sure  to  come  too ! 
FREEMAN.  Sure? — I  envy  you. 

CECIL.     I  thought  me  dead.     I  woke   and   all   was 
life. 

Above,  I  saw  the  stars  ;  far  east,  the  dawn. 

If  earth  rolls  on,  it  yet  will  bring  full  day. 
FREEMAN.     And  bright  may  heaven,  too,  make  it ! 
CECIL.  That  it  will. 

Earth  is  a  field  where  hidden  treasure  lies. 

All  search  for  it ;  their  searching   wakes   their 
thoughts, 

And  draws  out  their  desires,  and  aims   their  acts. 

At  last,  they  look  and  live  for  that  alone 

Which  lures  beneath  appearances.     Few  find  it. 

The   few   that   do,   find   that   which   makes   the 
world 

Worth  living  in,  and  worth  yon  circling  dome, 

The  crown  God  gives  it,  jeweled  all  with  stars. 
FREEMAN.     And  you  have  found  it  ? 
CECIL.  Freeman,  yes,  I  have ; 

And    know   why   sometimes    earth    seems    holy 
ground, 

And  those  that  tread  it  Godlike.     Then  Heaven's 
face 

Back  there  behind  the  veil  shines  dimly  through  it. 

But  wait.     I  yet  will  tell  you.     In  our  souls, 

Far  down  within,  are  depths  like  sunken  seas, 

All  dark! — yet  only  when  concealed  from  light 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  419 

And   from   the   face   of   love   they   else    might 

image. 
And  my  soul — you  should  know  its  depths  to 

know 
My  coming  joy;  yet  need  not.     You  will  guess 

it. 
FREEMAN.     Your  mood  alone  can  make  one  guess 

enough 

To  offer  his  congratulations  now. 
(FREEMAN  rises.      So  does  CECIL,  and  they  shake 

hands.') 

But  time,  it  is,  your  coming  were  announced; 
And  one  here  will  be  but  too  glad  to  see  you. 

Exit — Left — FREEM  A  N  . 
CECIL  (reseating  himself). 

How  kind  his  welcome !     It  is  worth  some  loss 
To  learn  we  own  some  friends. — And,  Faith,  too, 

Faith, — 

She  too,  he  says,  will  be  so  glad  to  see  me. 
I  always  liked  her ;  and  I  always  knew 
The  two  were  lovers,  and  they  knew  I  knew  it. 
This  must  have  been  the  reason  why  his  note 
Made  such    a   mere   brief   mention    of   his    mar 
riage  ; 

As  if,  forsooth,  I  knew  the  news  already. 
I  thought  I  must   have   missed   one   letter  from 

him. 

But  no ;  what  need  of  sending  me  her  name  ! — 
Who  could  she  be  but  Faith  ! — This  very  room 


42O  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

Seems  like  her  too.     No  setting  so  becomes 

A  jewel  of  a  woman  as  a  home, — 

A  loving  home   like  this.      Thank  God,   some 

souls 

Need  not  to  die  before  they  find  their  mates. 
And  I  shall  not. — Ah,  when  that  shot  was  fired 
That  almost  freed  my  soul,  you,  Celia,  thought 
I  sank  unconscious.     No,  no;  not  before 
Heaven   let  me  hear  this:     "He    is   dead   for 

me, 

The  only  man  I  ever  loved  is  dead!  " 
Then  came  my  dream. — But  you,   you  are  so 

young, — 

May  deem  yourself  too  young  for  me !     Yet  I — 
I  run  no  risk.     Soon  as  I  show  my  spirit, 
Your  own  sweet  spirit  which  is  one  with  mine, 
Will  recognize  it,  as  we  both  thank  heaven 
For  cloud  and  storm  and  flash  that  struck  me 

down, 

And  heaven  in  life  that  followed  death  in  life. 
Enter — Left—  CELI  A  . 

(She  carries  another  dish  for  table.     As  she  en 
ters,  before  she  is  where  she  can  speak  to 
CECIL,  he  says,  aside.) 
What  ? — Celia  here  ?    And  I  was  never  told  it  ? — 

(rising  to  greet  her.) 

Why,  Freeman  said  that  I  should  find  a  friend. 
I  have— the  friend  to  whom  I  owe  my  life. 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  421 

CELIA  {placing  the  dish  on  table,  and  shaking  hands 
with  him}. 

Had  it  been  lost,  it  would  have  been  for  me. 
CECIL.  And  now  when  saved,  let  it  be  saved  for  you. 
CELIA.     For  me  and  all  who  love  you. 
CECIL  (aside).  Ah,  who  love  ! 

(to  CELIA.) 

I  would  that  I  could  stay  forever  with  you. 
CELIA.     You  would  not  go  away  ? 
CECIL.  What,  would  you  wish  me 

To  make  my  home  with  you  ? 
CELIA.  Why,  yes.— Why  not? 

CECIL.     But  I  must  work. 
CELIA.  Yet  people  sue — not  so  ? — 

In  any  place  ? 
CECIL  (taking  her  hand). 

Shall  I  begin  it  here  ? 
CELIA.     Begin  and  keep  on  too. 
CECIL.  I  think  I  will. 

CELIA.     It  would  so  please  us  all! 
CECIL.  And  could  you  think 

That  I  could  feel  at  home  away  from  you? 
CELIA.     How  kind  in  you  to  say  that! — You  will 
live 

Right  here  with  me  and  Freeman? 
CECIL.  You  and  Freeman? 

CELIA.     Why,  certainly! — He  wants  it,  too. 
CECIL.  I  see. — 

You  two  together  saved  my  life,  of  course. 


422  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

CELIA.     Of    course    we    saved   it,   if    it    could   be 

saved. 

CECIL.     And  so  you  live  with  him? 
CELIA.  Because  of  that — 

It  was  our  mutual  interest  in  you. 

Enter — Left — FREEMAN. 

(fust  as  he  enters,  CELIA,  bowing  to  CECIL  and 

gesturing  toward  the  table,  indicates  that 

she  must  prepare  for  the  meal,  and  moves 

toward  the  Left.) 

FREEMAN  (holding  newspaper  in  hand,  and  bringing 

it  to  CECIL). 

Here  comes  the  morning  paper!     Would  you  like 
it? 

Exit— Left—  CELIA. 

(CECIL  bows,  takes  paper  from  FREEMAN,  and 
sits  in  chair.  FREEMAN  returns  to 
closet  near  Left,  and,  while  carrying  on 
the  following  conversation,  finds  there  a 
small  bottle,  which,  when  presently  he 
leaves  the  room,  he  takes  with  him.) 


56  CECIL.  Celia,  yes.— Why  not  ? 

FREEMAN.     You  mean  ? — 

CECIL.     Oh  yes,  you  think  she  is  too  young  ! 
But,  Freeman,  love  is  of  eternity,  and  knows 
No  youth,  no  age  ; — is  like  the  air  of  heaven 
That  tosses  in  its  play  the  dangling  fringe 
Athrill  with  grace  about  cur  outward  guise, 
And  runs  its  unseen  fingers  through  our  hair, 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  423 

CECIL.     She  tells  me  I  must  live  with  you  and 

her. 

FREEMAN.     Yes,  we  had  hoped  so. 
CECIL  (looking  at  CELIA'S  retreating  form). 

Freeman,  this  is  bliss  ! 
FREEMAN.     Yes,  we  are  very  happy. 
CECIL.  That  we  are  ! — 

Men  do  not  often  wed  their  own  ideals. 
FREEMAN.     I  know  it.     I  have  thought  it  through; 

and  yet, 

Without  that,  life  can  have  some  brightness  left. 
CECIL.     Without  that? — You  mistake  my  meaning, 

Freeman. 

I  need  not  live  without  that.     No,  indeed! 
She  loves  me,  Freeman ;  not  a  doubt  of  it. 
FREEMAN.     Who? 
CECIL.  Celia. 

FREEMAN-.  Celia  ? " 

CECIL.  Celia  is  my  love. 

FREEMAN.     Your   love,   eh  ? — Has    she   told   you 
that? 

And  brushes  to  a  glow  our  flushing  cheeks, 
But  has  more  serious  lasting  moods  than  these. 
It  is  the  substance  of  the  breath  we  breathe 
That  keeps  the  blood  fresh,  and  the  heart  in 

motion  ; 

And,  e'en  when  these  give  out,  it  still  is  there 
To  buoy  us  up  and  bear  on  high  the  spirit. 
FREEMAN.     Oh,  yes  ! — but  Celia  ? — 


424  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

CECIL.  She  has. 

FREEMAN.     Told  you  she  loves  you? 

CECIL.  Is  it  past  belief? 

FREEMAN.     Well — yes — I  think  it  is. 

CECIL.  You  know  not  what 

Is  in  a  woman's  heart! 

(CECIL  looks  down  at  his  paper  as  if  reading.) 
FREEMAN  (aside).  It  may  be  not. 

I  purpose  to  find  out,  though. — Is  he  mad? 

Am  I  mad? — My  sole  proof  that  I  am  not, 

Lies  in  my  thinking  that  I  may  be  so. — 

Humph !     I  will  hold  this  thinking  and  keep  sane ; 

And  if  it  be  a  cool  head  takes  the  trick, 

Will  find  what  trick  is  here. 

(FREEMAN  opens  door  at  the  Left.) 

Enter — Left—  Celia. 
(She  carries  something  else  for  the  table.) 

CECIL  (seeing  CELIA  coming). 

Here  she  comes — 
Will  tell  you  it  herself. 

CELIA  (placing  what  she  brings  on  the  table,  then 
busying  herself  with  arranging  things  on  it) . 

Now  I  am  coming 
To  stay  with  you  awhile. 
CECIL  (to  CELIA). 

To  be  with  those 

Who  really  love  one,  is  a  new  delight. 
You  said  you  loved  me,  Celia. 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  425 

CELIA.  Why,  of  course — 

Just  as  I  always  have,  and  always  must. 
Of  course  I  do. 

Exit — Left — FREEMAN,  lifting  his   hands   in   a  be 
wildered  way. 
CECIL  (aside,  as  CELIA  turns  away  for  something). 

Of  course  ! 
(then  noticing  that  FREEMAN  had  left.) 

Why! — he  is  gone. — 
Humph  !     Who  could  wonder  that  he  thinks  it 

strange? 

I  wonder  Celia  fails  to  think  so  too. 
It  proves  how  well  our  natures  mate  each  other. 

(to  CELIA.) 

Look — Freeman's  vanished,  Celia. — Have  a  care. 
To  love  too  much  may  make  him  envious ; 
And  chewing  on  the  cud  of  jealousy 
Is  not  a  pleasant  practice  for  one's  friends. 
For  though  you  give  them  naught  to  work  upon, 
So  much  the  more  the  grinders  work  away 
And  grind  themselves  the  sharper, — ay,  and  grind 
The  words  that   pass  them  too — made  sharp  as 

arrows 

To  pierce  the  soul  they  hit. 
CELIA.  No  fear  of  him  ! — 

We  both  love  you. 
CECIL.  Ah,  I  shall  punish  him ! 

When  he  comes  in, — shall  send  him  after  Faith. 
CELIA.     No;  you  must  not  do  that. 


426  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

CECIL.  Oh,  yes,  I  shall. 

CELIA  (taking  a  seat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table 
from  him). 

You  would  not  dare. — 
CECIL.  Not  dare  ? — Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

CELIA.     No,  no  ;  I  beg  you  not  to 

CECIL.  Not  to,  Celia  ? 

CELIA.     You  must  not. 

CECIL.         Must  not  ? — And  you  really  mean  it  ? — 

Well,  if  you  be  in  earnest,  I  will  not. 

But,  bless  me,  if  I  see  the  reason  why. 
CELIA.     He  loves  Faith. 
CECIL.  Yes;  and  where  would  be  my  joke, 

Unless  he  loved  her? 
CELIA.  There  was  deep,  deep  love, 

I  sometimes  think  it  saddens  him  to-day. 
CECIL.     What?   what? — not  happy  in  his  married 

life? 
CELIA.     Oh,  one  could  not  say  that — so  kind,  you 

know. 
CECIL.     Yes,  yes? — and  she? — is  she  not  kind  to 

him? 

CELIA.     Who?     Faith? 
CECIL.  Yes,  Faith. 

CELIA.  He  never  hears  from  her. 

CECIL.     What? — Are  they  separated? 
CELIA.  Separated! 

She  went — you  had  not  heard  it? — to  a  convent. 
CECIL.   She  did? — Poor  Freeman! — When  was  that? 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  427 

ELIA.  Last  year. 

ECiL  (in  a  perplexed  way). 
But  when  was  Freeman  married  ? 
JELIA.  Why,  last  March. — 

He  wrote  you  all  about  it. 
LECIL  (startled*). 

No  ;  not  all, — 
Not  half  a  page. 
SLIA  (surprised}. 

Why,  twenty  pages,  friend  ! — 
We  both  wrote  twenty ;  and  you  never  got  them? 
ESCIL.     Why,    no;    you   see   I   had   not  heard  of 

Faith— 

(hesitatingly?) 

And  you  now — you  are  living  with  him  here  ? 
ELIA.     Yes,  living ! — Did  you  think  that  we  were 

boarding  ? 
ECIL  (aside). 
What  horror  haunts  me  ? — But  I  must   not  show 

it. 

(slowly,  and  struggling  to  conceal  emotion?) 
You  know — it  seems — why,  strange — when — he 

loved  Faith. 
ELIA.     What  ? — That  he  married   me  ? — He  told 

me  all ; 

But  Faith  seems  dead. 
ECIL  (controlling  himself}. 

And  he  is  kind,  eh,  Celia? 
IELIA.     Yes,  very  kind. 


428  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

CECIL.  Forgive  me,  will  you,  Celia  ? 

You  see  that  I  have  always  loved  you,  Celia, — 
Just  as  a  father  loves  a  child,  you  know  ; 
And  if  my  love  be  anxious  for  you,  Celia, 

Enter — Left — FREEMAN. 
(He  is  not  observed  by  CECIL  or  CELIA.     He  re 
places  in  the  closet  the   little  bottle  taken 
from  it,  when    on   the   stage   the  previous 
time.      While  doing  so,  he  evidently  hears 
the  following  conversation^) 
You  will  not  think  it  strange  ? 
CELIA.  Nay,  not  a  throb 

In  all  my  heart,  but  you  could  rightly  know  it. 
CECIL.     Your  heart's  wish  is  fulfilled  ? 
CELIA.  Yes,  yes,  my  love 

Is  deep  and  true.     No  wife  could  love  one  more. 

Exit — Left — FREEMAN. 
CECIL.     Then  you  have  two  friends, — him  and  me. 

You  stand 
Between  us. 

CELIA  (rising}.     I  must  go  now. 
CECIL  (rising).  Yes,  my  daughter  ! 

Exit — Left — C  ELI  A. 

(standing,  and  looking  after  her  retreating  form). 
So  close  the  clouds  of  heaven  upon  my  dream  ! — 
Not  God, — the  devil — he,  he  rules  the  world  ! — 
Then  let  me  rule  it  with  him. — But  no,  no! — 
Oh,  what  a  universe  of  agencies 
Are  centered  in  one  life  that  may  be  both 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  429 

The  God  and  devil  of  the  soul  it  loves  ! 
Yet  wits  were  given  one  to  outwit  the  world. 
If  Celia  be  what  I  have  dreamed  she  is, 
The  world  must  work  its  work  upon  her  will 
Without  one  touch  of  mine,  or  hint,  or  sigh, 
To  make  her  life  more  tempted  or  less  true.— 
Oh,  cursed  world,  in  which  forswearing  love 
Is  our  best  proof  that  we  would  foster  it ! 
But  wait ! — What  moves  me  ? — Am  I  but  a  fool 
Controlled     by    dreams  ? — No,    no  ;    I    had     a 

dream ; 

But  this,  at  least,  is  none, — that  each  who  aids 
An  angel  upward  for  himself  prepares 
Angelic  friendship  ;  and  if  there  be  spheres 
Where  spirit  can  reveal  itself  to  spirit, 
And  sympathy  be  sovereign,  there  must  be 
One    soul    supremely    loved.      I    dreamed    no 

dream. 

High,  knightly  chivalry  whose  love  protects, 
Thy  knightly  honor  is  the  sacred  thing 
Of    which    thy    pride    is    conscious.       But — oh 

God  !— 

To  be  just  on  the  threshold  of  all  bliss  : 
And  fail. — Fail? — No.     Let  Freeman  have    her 

now 
A  few  brief  years. — I  dream  with  her  forever. 

Enter — Right — JEM  . 
Ah,   what  is   that? — Who   comes? — Well,    Jem, 

what  now? 


43°  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

JEM.     Some  white  folks  heah  as  wants  ter  speak 

wid  yer. 
CECIL  (in  surprise}. 

With  me? — I  have  no  friends  here. — Bid  them 

enter. 

Enter — Right — as  JEM  holds  open  door,  THREE 
GENTLEMEN.  They  wear  overcoats  and 
hold  their  hats  in  their  hands.  CECIL 
exchanges  bows  with  them,  and  motions  to 
ward  the  chairs. 

And  will  you  sit? 
FIRST  GENTLEMAN.  No,  thanks.    We  have  no  time. 

Our  party's  first  convention  meets  to-morrow. 

The  news  is  ominous.     We  may  have  war. 

We  came  as  a  committee  to  request 

To  hear  from  you. 

CECIL.  To  hear  from  me? — and  why? 

FIRST  GENT.    You  suffer  from  the  wrongs  of  slavery 

That  we  oppose. 

CECIL.  But  here  I  am  a  stranger. 

FIRST  GENT.     Good  reputation  is   to  good  men 
what 

Fine  perfumes  are  to  flowers.     A  charm  it  has 

Which  lures  the  sense  that  heeds  it  to  a  search 

That  will  not  cease  till  finding  its  fair  source. 
CECIL.     You  do  me  too  much  honor. 
FIRST  GENT.  Honor  us; 

And  let  our  people  hear  you. 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  431 

CECIL.  If  my  words • 

FIRST  GENT.     The  words  of  men  whose  deeds  have 

proved  them  true 
Are  also  true. 

CECIL.  Thanks.     If  you  think  them  so, 

They  may  at  least  command  your  interest. 
And   he   whose   words   can  wake   the   earth   to 

thought 
Has  heaven's  own   warrant    that   he   should  be 

heard. 

Yes  ;  I  will  come. 
FIRST  GENT.  Thanks. 

SECOND  GENT  AND  THIRD.     Thanks. 

(All  move  toward  Left  Second  Entrance.  JEM 
who  is  nearest  it  opens  door  there.  CECIL 
and  GENTS  exchange  bows.) 

CECIL.  We  meet  to-morrow. 

Exeunt — Right — THREE  GENTS,  CECIL  and  JEM. 


SCENE  SECOND  :  An  open  field  or  village  green.  Back 
ing  in  the  distance,  village  houses,  and  beyond  them 
hill  scenery.  Extending  diagonally  across  stage 
from  the  place  of  the  Right  Third  Entrance  toward 
that  of  the  Back  Center,  a  cottage  fronted  by  a  porch, 
the  latter  being  a  platform  elevated  a  foot  or  two 
above  the  rest  of  the  stage.  At  the  Left  of  the  stage 
are  trees  and  a  tent,  apparently  one  of  a  soldiers' 
encampment  beyond  it. 

ENTRANCES  :    Right    Second   between    trees,    Right 


432  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

Upper  from  a  door  opening  from  the  cottage  on  to  the 
porch;  Back  Center  from  behind  the  cottage ;  Left 
Second,  Third  and  Upper,  from  behind  trees,  or  the 
tent. 

As  the  curtain   rises,  SOLDIERS  and  POPULACE  are 
seen  grouped  at  the  Left. 

(They  sing  as  follows  •) 

The  trumpets  call  to  action 

Through  all  the  threatened  land 
No  more  is  heard  of  faction. 
The  time  has  come  to  band. 

What  soul  can  see 
The  state  in  fear  and  fail  to  be 
Beneath  the  flag,  enrolled  with  all 
That  heed  the  trumpet's  call  ? 
No  patriot  is  he  who  can  see 
The  state  in  fear  and  fail  to  be 
Beneath  the  flag,  enrolled  with  all 
That  heed  the  trumpet's  call. 

The  best  of  men  are  brothers. 

The  worst  can  be  a  foe  ; 
And  not  for  self  but  others, 
True  men  to  battle  go. 

No  longer  meek, 

Where  wrong  is  cruel,  right  is  weak, 
Or  aught  has  brought  the  base  to  band, — 
They  throng  to  lend  a  hand. 
No  true  man  is  he  who  can  see 
The  state  in  fear,  and  fail  to  be 
Beneath  the  flag,  enrolled  with  all 
That  heed  the  trumpet's  call. 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  433 

Who,  think  you,  live  in  story 

That  live  for  self  alone  ? 
Who  care  to  swell  his  glory 
That  cares  not  for  their  own  ? 

In  every  strife 

That  stirs  the  pulse  to  nobler  life, 
The  man  that  has  the  thrilling  heart, 
He  plays  the  thrilling  part. 
No  hero  is  he  who  can  see 
The  state  in  fear,  and  fail  to  be 
Beneath  the  flag,  enrolled  with  all 
That  heed  the  trumpet's  call. 

Exeunt — Left — SOLDIERS  and  POPULACE. 

Enter — Back  Center — CECIL,  in  out-door  costume. 

Enter — Right  Second — FAITH,  dressed  as  a  nun. 
CECIL  (to  himself]. 

These  clouds  of  war  break  like  a  thunder-clap 

Amid  clear  skies  of  summer  ;  but  will  bring 

Our  plant  of  freedom  to  a  finer  fruitage. 
(suddenly  observing  FAITH.) 

Faith  Hycher  ? 

FAITH.  Yes — on  business. 

CECIL.  With  me  ? 

FAITH.     Old  friends  of  ours  are  here — have  interest 

In  land  near  by  us.     Being  of  the  south 

They  came  to  deed  it  so  as  not  to  lose  it ; 

And  stand  arrested.     People  deem  them  spies. 
CECIL.     Who  are  they? 
FAITH.  Why,  my  mother,  Father  Hycher, 

Lowe,  Blaver,  Kraft 


434  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

CECIL.  His  wife  too  ? 

FAITH.  Yes. 

CECIL.  Humph,  humph  ! 

FAITH.     Their  holdings  were  not  small.     The  time 
was  brief. 

All  came  here  who  might  need  to  sign  their  papers. 
CECIL.     And  what  can  I  do  ? 
FAITH.  Say  you  know  them — you 

And  Freeman. 

CECIL.     You  have  seen  him — Freeman? 
FAITH  {hesitating}.  N< 

CECIL  (kindly]. 

I  understand  you. 
FAITH.  It  was  not  his  fault: 

I  was  deceived. 


57  Faith,  you  and  I  have  loved  supremely, — yet 

Our  love  has  loved  another. — Could  this  be 

Of  that  form  which  we  walked  with  in  our  dreams  ? 

FAITH.    Why 

CECIL.  Did  you  ever  think  that  all  our  dreams 

Are  in  ourselves  ;  and  this  form  too  may  be  there  ? 
They  say  that  human  brains,  ay,  all  our  frames 
Are  doubled. — If  so,  why  ? — For  use  ? — then  whose? 
Who  is  it  twins  existence  with  us  here  ? 
Can  it  be  our  own  real,  live,  better  self 
Which  under  consciousness  we  vaguely  feel 
Dreams  while  we  wake  and  wakes  the  while   we 

dream, 
Recalls  what  we  forget,  incites,  and  is 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  435 

CECIL.  By  whom? 

FAITH.  By  Father  Hycher. 

CECIL.     Yet  now  you  wish  to  help  the  Father? 
FAITH.  Yes. 

CECIL.     As  I  should  help  the  Krafts  ? — You  think 

I  should  ?— '7 
You  do.     I    see. — Your   friends  shall  have  my 

help. 

FAITH.     How  kind! 
Exit — Right — after    exchanging   bows   with    CECIL, 

FAITH. 

CECIL   (to   himself,  as   he  stands  near  this  Entrance, 
and  close  to  the  porch], 

For  her,  for  me,  for  all  whose  paths 
Of  honor  and  of  sympathy  divide, 


Less  form  than  spirit,  but,  because  a  spirit, 
Heaven's  representative,  our  guardian,  guide, 
And  all  that  tells  of  God  ?    You  know  all  praise 
The  men  dependent  only  on  themselves. 
Yet  why  ? — Is  it  so  noble  to  be  free 
From  love,  or  wish  for  love  ?    Or  own  these  men 
A  subtle  consciousness  of  nobler  love 
Wkich,  in  the  spirit-life,  is  all  in  all  ? 
Know  they  that  earthly  forms  which  seem  divine 
But  image  that  within  which  is  divine  ? — 
If  you  have  wed  the  church,  Faith,  I  have  not ; 
And  yet  the  bonds  that  bind  us  may  not  differ. — 
And  so,  Faith — yes — your  friends  shall  have  my 
help,  etc. 


436  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

One  choice  alone  remains — to  dwell  content 

With  loneliness,  and  one's  ideal,  and  God. 
Enter — Right     Upper — coming    suddenly   from    tht 

cottage  on  to  the  porch,  CELIA. 
CELIA  (to  CECIL). 

Save,  save  my  husband  ! 
CECIL.  Save  from  what  ? 

CELIA.  From  death, 

From  certain  death. 
CECIL.  To  march  to  war  is  not 

To  march  to  certain  death. 
CELIA.  My  throbbing  heart 

Would  spend  its  blood  in  blushes  for  my  shame 

Till  it  forgot  to  give  my  being  life, 

If,  by  a  single  sigh,  I  durst  keep  back 

One  soldier  from  the  ranks  of  this  just  war. 
CECIL.     What  mean  you,  then  ? 
CELIA.  That  he  has  volunteered 

To  be  a  spy,  and  in  the  very  town 

Where  he  has  lived,  is  known,  and  hated  too. 

He  can  but  be  detected. 
CECIL.  You  are  right. 

I  see  him  coming. 

(pointing  to    the    Left. — CELIA    looks    at    him,    in 
quiringly!) 

You  would  better  leave  us. 
Exit— Right  Upper— CELIA. 

58  FREEMAN.  You  know — We  both 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  437 

Enter — Left  Second — FREEMAN,  dressed  as  an  officer 
(&  FREEMAN). 

Your  wife  says  you  have  volunteered  to  be 

A  spy,  where  you  are  sure  to  meet  with  death. 
FREEMAN.     I  may  succeed. 

CECF,.  You  scarce  can  hope  to  do  so. 

FREEMAN  (with  assumed  indifference). 

And  what  if  not  ? 
CECIL.  Then  you  are  not  the  man 

To  trust  on  such  a  mission. 
FREEMAN.  Not  ? — How  so  ? 

CECIL.     No  man,  if  wise,  will  waive  from  what  he 
plans 

The  prospect  of  success.     If  you  attempt  it, 

Trust  me  to  thwart  you. 
FREEMAN.     Humph!     You  seem  officious. 
CECIL.     One  needs  to  be  at  times ;  and  now  your 
life 

And  Celia's  happiness  are  both  at  stake. 
FREEMAN.     Not  Celia's  happiness. 
CECIL.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

FREEMAN.     I  mean,  since  men  have  talked  so  much 
against 

Our  owning  blacks,  the  time  is  coming  fast 

For  some  to  talk  against  our  owning  whites. 
CECIL.     And  what  suggested  this  ? 68 
FREEMAN.  If  Celia  find 

Have  seen  both  men  and  women  treat  their  peers — 


CECIL    THE  SEER. 

More  joy  in  your  society  than  mine, 
Then  let  her  find  it.     Did  I  marry  her 
To  limit  her  delights  ? 

CECIL.  Why,  Freeman,  friend, 

Look  here  at  me — You  are  an  upright  man, 
(placing  his  hand  on  FREEMAN'S  shoulder?) 
And  so  am  I.     Upon  my  soul,  I  hoped 
You  had  forgotten,  or  not  understood 
The  words  I  used.     But,  ere  I  knew  you  married, 
Was  it — with  all  that  she  and  I  had  been — 
So  strange  that  I  should  have — those — whims  of 

mine  ? 

FREEMAN.     She  told  you  that  she  loved  you. 
CECIL.  Yes,  she  did  : 

But  as  a  daughter. 

(FREEMAN  looks  incredulous?) 

I  am  not  a  man 
You  should  distrust.69 

FREEMAN,  She  said  no  more  than  that  ? 

CECIL.     When  speaking  of  her  love,  she  said  no 
more. 


In  wedlock,  yes,  but  also  out  of  it — 

As  if  they  owned  them;  and  society 

Approved,  enforced  their  course.     Mere  selfishness 

Has  been  enthroned  so  long  in  men's  affairs, 

That  naught  seems  worthy  of  respect  to  some 

Of  which  it  only  is  not  king  and  guide. 

CECIL.     And,  pray,  too,  what  of  that  ? 


CECIL   THE  SEER.  439 

She  gave  no  slightest  hint  that  meant  not  that. 
FREEMAN.     Yet  you  love  her  ? 
CECIL.  In  the  degree  I  do, 

Her  honor  I  would  guard,  as,  too,  mine  own; 

And  guard  her  love  too.     She  has  told  me  all. 

She  loves  you  as  a  true  and  faithful  wife. 

So  let  me  save  you  for  her.     Be  no  spy, 

But  soldier,  captain,  general, — who  knows 

What  fortune  may  await  the  tide  of  war! 
FREEMAN.     And  you? 
CECIL.  Am  I,  think  you,  a  man  to  play 

A  second  fiddle  to  your  tune  of  love — 

With  instrument  all  broke  beyond  repair, 

Make  discord  of  the  music  of  your  life? 

I  promise  you  to  leave  here. 
FREEMAN.  Leave  your  home  ? — 

You  have  no  other. 

CECIL.  Some  will  open  for  me. 

(^pointing  toward  the  tent?) 

There  were  one  here,  did  my  infirmities 

Not  keep  me  from  the  army. 

(Shouts  are  heard  at  the  Left.) 

69  FREEMAN.  Who  knows  what  men  can  be, 

Till  pierced  where  tenderest  ?     It  was  the  fleet 
Achilles  could  be  wounded  in  the  heel; 
And  some  have  heads,  and  some  have  hearts  to  hurt 

CECIL.     I  say  she  said  she  loved  me  as  a  daughter. 
I  quote  her  very  words. 

FREEMAN.  She  said  no  more  ?  etc. 


440  CECIL   THE  SEER. 

Enter — Left — A  guard  of  SOLDIERS  headed  by 
an  OFFICER,  and  conducting  BLAVER  and 
Miss  PRIMWOOD — now  MADAM  BLAVER 
— LOWE  and  MADAM  LOWE,  FATHER  HY- 
CHER,  KRAFT  and  MADAM  CECIL — now 
MADAM  KRAFT — FATHER  HYCHER  and 
WIDOW  HYCHER,  attended  by  FAITH. 
POPULACE  follow. 
FREEMAN  (in  evident  astonishment). 

Who  are  they  ? 

CECIL.     I  think  you  know  them. 
FREEMAN  (noticing  FATHER  HYCHER). 

Father—? — Now  will  I 
Get  even  with  him. 

CECIL.  There  is  no  such  thing 

As  getting  even  with  a  low-lived  soul, 
Without  degrading  one's  own  self. 
(to  the  OFFICER.) 

And  who 
Are  these? 
OFFICER.     All  spies. 
OTHER  PEOPLE.         To  shoot. 
ANOTHER.  And  all  have  land 

To  confiscate. 
OFFICER  (to  CECIL).     They  tell  us  that  you  know 

them. 

CECIL.     Why,  yes  ;  and  Freeman  too. — Ah,  Madam 
Blaver  ! 
(CECIL  and  FREEMAN  shake  hands  with  Miss 


CECIL    THE  SEER.  441 

PRIMWOOD — now  MADAM  BLAVER — with 
MADAM  LOWE,  WIDOW  HYCHER,  LOWE 
and  BLAVER,  but  not  with  the  others. 
CECIL  continues  to  the  OFFICER,  gestur 
ing  toward  the  ladies,  including  MADAM 
CECIL — now  MADAM  KRAFT.) 
Our  war  is  not  with  ladies,  I  believe  ? 

(The  OFFICER  apparently  agrees  with  him) 
FATHER  HYCHER.     I  am  a  clergyman. 
CECIL.  Quite  true  ;  and  we  ?•— 

(looking  for  assent  to  FREEMAN.) 
FREEMAN.     Of  course,  we  have  no  strife  here  with 

religion. 

LOWE.     I  am  a  friend. 
CECIL.  He  is. 

LOWE.  With  me  the  chief 

Consideration  is  religion. 
BLAVER.  And  I 

A  prohibitionist.     Our  pleas  were  all 
Based  on  religious  grounds. 

OFFICER.  And  what  of  that  ? 

FREEMAN  (laughing).     You    fail  to  catch  its  bear 
ing? — When  they  take 

Their  oath  of  loyalty,  why,  they  will  keep  it. 
(The prisoners  make  startled  signs  of  dissent.) 
CECIL.     And   this,  too,  may  be  said, — that  as  a 

rule 

The  friends  are  on  our  side;  and  are  not  fighters. 
So  too  with  prohibitionists. 
10 


442  CECIL    THE  SEER, 

FREEMAN  (to  CECIL,  in  a  laughing  way). 

For  once, 
Religion,    friend,    has    helped     them     in    their 

practice. 
OFFICER  (taking  KRAFT  roughly  by  the  shoulder}. 

But  here  the  case  is  different. 
CECIL.  I  grant  it. 

OFFICER.     We  know  him,  and  his  party. 
MADAM  CECIL- KRAFT  (to  CECIL).     Could  I  speak 

A  moment  with  you  ? 

CECIL.  Oh,  yes,  if  it  please  you. 

(CECIL  and  MADAM  CECIL-KRAFT,  walk  to  one  side.) 
MADAM  C.     You  know  my  father  died. 
CECIL  (nodding  toward  KRAFT).     Before  you  mar 
ried? 

(MADAM  C.  nods  in  assent?) 
A  happy  man  ! 
MADAM  C.  He  left  a  fortune  to  me. 

It  now  is  in  this  land. 
CECIL.  In  Kraft's  name? 

MADAM  C.  Yes. 

(hesitatingly,  after  pausing  a  moment?) 

There  was  an  informality 

CECIL.  In  what  ? 

MADAM  C.     My  marriage. 

CECIL.  I  should  think  so  ! — What  of  that  ? 

MADAM  C.      Why,   I   would   deed   you    half  mj 

ownings  here, 
Could  it 


CECIL    THE   SEER.  443 

CECIL.  This  marriage — be  made  right? 

MADAM  C.  With  you— 

Your  help. 

CECIL.     No,  thank  you — not  for  all  you  own. 
MADAM  C.     And  you  would  have  me  lose  my  land 

here  then  ? 
KRAFT  (coming  forward^  followed  by  FREEMAN). 

But  surely  you  will  help  me  ? 
CECIL.  Surely  ? — why  ? 

KRAFT.     You  know  I  am  no  spy. 
CECIL.  How  do  I  know  it  ? 

KRAFT.     My  character 

CECIL.  What  character  ? 

KRAFT.  And  you 

Would  have  me  shot  ? 
CECIL  (to  FREEMAN). 

Shot  at,  perhaps?     What  say? 
By  proxy,  eh? — And  in  a  better  cause 
Than  his  past  deeds  deserve? 
FREEMAN.  I  see. 

(to  the  SOLDIERS.) 

Say,  friends, 

We  all  would  save  the  lands  of  loyal  men. 
All  loyal  men  about  us  are  enlisting. 
If  Kraft  be  loyal,  he  will  do  the  same. 
(The  SOLDIERS  make  signs  of  approval.) 

(to  KRAFT.) 
What  say  you? 


444  CECIL  THE  SEER. 

KRAFT  (hesitatingly). 

Had  I — a — commission 

FREEMAN.  That 

Would  prove  unwise  the  one  who  gave  it  you. 
CECIL  (to  KRAFT,  putting  his  hand  on   FREEMAN'S 

shoulder). 

Places  of  trust  are  only  for  the  trusted  ; 
And   high   commissions  but   for   men  with  mis 
sions. 
What  say  you — prison  or  private  ? — Make  your 

choice. 
KRAFT  (abjectly]. 

Why,  if  I  must 

CECIL.  It  looks  as  if  you  must. 

Enter — Left — hurriedly,  Two  GENTLEMEN. 
(Commotion  among  the  POPULACE  near  them  and  fol 
lowing  them.) 
POPULACE.     Hurrah ! 

Enter — Right    Upper — evidently  attracted   by 
the  commotion,    CELIA,  followed  by  JEM 
and  MILLY,  and  stand  on  the  porch. 
FIRST  GENTLEMAN  (to  CECIL).     They  nominated 

you. 

CECIL.     For  what? 

FIRST  GENT.     For  representative  at  Washington. 
SECOND  GENT,  {shaking  hands  with  CECIL). 

And  I  congratulate  the  district  too. 
CECIL.     But  I? — a  stranger? 
FIRST  GENT.  No,  no;  one  well  known. 


CECIL     THE  SEER.  445 

SECOND  GENT.     The  only  home  you  have  now  must 

be  here ; 
For  here  they  brought  and  nursed  you,  when   so 

ill. 
FIRST  GENT.     And  when  the  factions  could  not  else 

agree, 

They  all  could  join  on  you. 
PEOPLE.  Hurrah!  hurrah! 

SECOND  GENT.     And  nomination  here  is  sure  elec 
tion. 
PEOPLE.     Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !     A  speech  !  a 

speech  ! 
CECIL  (ascending  the  porch,    where  he  stands   with 

CELIA  at  his  Right). 

This  is  no  time  for  words.    The  world  needs  work ; 
But  one  whose  forced  infirmities  prevent 
His  bearing  arms  and  marching  to  the  front, 
May  choose  the  course  that  you  commend  to  him. 
(Cheers  from  the  crowd.     CECIL  gestures  toward  tht 

SOLDIERS.) 

But  do  not  think  you  only  move  to  war ; 
Or  deem  that  I  stay  here  to  dwell  in  peace. 
To  men  whose  purposes,  like  ours,  push  on 
To  work  out  high  designs,  all  life  on  earth 
Is  girt  with  warfare,  where  the  light  of  heaven 
That  brings  us  each  new  day's  enlightenment, 
Contends  with  darkness,  and  there  is  no  peace. 
Our  very  bodies  are  but  phantoms  formed 
Of  that  same  darkness  that  we  must  oppose, 


446  CECIL    THE  SEER. 

And  we  must  fight,  if  nothing  else,  ourselves. 
Ay,  whether  we  may  march  our  frames  to  greet 
The  cannon's  mouth,  or  duty's  commoner  call, 
Go   where   death   threatens,    or   long  seems   to 

tarry, 

One  destiny,  at  last,  awaits  us  all : 
Upon  life's  little  stage  the  play  will  close, 
The  curtain  drop,  and  leave  the  actor  dead. 
Yet,  soldiers,  what  care  you,  or  what  care  I  ? — 
The  souls  that  fight  for  truth,  beyond  scenes 

here, 

Find  life  that  does  not  end  in  tragedy ; 
For  all  our  world  is  but  a  theater 
Outside   whose    walls,   where   shine  the  stars  of 

heaven, 

The  actors  with  their  roles  and  robes  laid  by 
May  all  meet  smiling  in  the  open  air. 
And  now — to  play  our  several  parts — farewell. 

(bowing  to  those  before  him,  then  turning  to  CELIA  and 
taking  her  hand) 

(Blast  of  bugles,  as  the  SOLDIERS  fall  into  tine,  with 
KRAFT  well  guarded) 

CURTAIN. 
END. 


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